LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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Chap..__. ._. Copyright No. 



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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




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FLOWERS OF THOUGHT. 



FLOWERS OF THOUGHT 



BY 



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ABBIE WALKER GOULD. 







MOLINE, ILLINOIS: 

PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR. 

1896. 



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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1896, by 

ABBIE WALKER GOULD 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 



PORTER PRINTING COMPANY. 
MOLINE. 



DEDICATED WITH LOVE 

TO 

MY CITY, MY HOME, AND MY MANY FRIENDS 

WHO HAVE CARED FOR MY 

LITTLE SONGS. 



INTRODUCTION. 

I NOW send forth to my home city and th« world my col- 
lected waifs of thought, which have come to me out of the 
Silence. Many of them have been printed several times ; and as 
they have been received with courtesy and kindness by strangers, 
I trust they will be more warmly received by my own kinsmen. 
That they will bear criticism, if viewed in the light of poetic cult, 
there is not a doubt ; but I make no claims, as do those who have 
made a life study of poesy ; for this is simply a gift given to me 
of God, which I have ever held in trust, and sent forth without 
money, without price, to comfort weary hearts wherever I found 
them. They may not all be understood by all who read ; but I 
have tried to give variety, so each could take that which suited 
best. 

I have tried to please, and so I send my thought children 
forth with the words of the gifted poet priest, Father Ryan ; 

" Go words of mine ; and if you live 

Only for one brief little day, 
If peace, or joy, or calm you give 

To any soul, or if you bring 
A something higher to some heart, 

I may come back again and sing 
Songs free from all the arts of art." 

ABBIE WALKER GOULD. 

Moline, Illinois, 1896. 



CONTENTS. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 

PAGE 

Invocation 17 

"Neither Do I Condemn Thee" .... 18 

Reverie 20 

Mary Magdalene 21 

Old Eben Gray 22 

The Mail Carriers 24 

To-Day and To-Morrow 26 

Golden Wedding Bells 27 

May 29 

The Peekskill Cadets 31 

Do His Bidding 32 

Life's Trials ........ 33 

Our Ships 34 

The Glorious Fourth 35 

Always Faithful 36 

The More Beautiful 37 

God's Benefits 39 

The Rowers 40 

Love's Answer 41 

Drift Thought 42 

Messenger . . . . . . . . . 43 

Farewell 44 

Christ is Risen 45 

Autumn Thoughts 46 



Contents. 



An Idyl .... 

The Sun .... 

The Watchers . 

The Agricultural Editor 

Only a Brave Little Girl 

Death In the Storm 

Woman's Future 

Harvest . 

The Peace Plow 

By Their Fruits . 

The Rich Young Man 

Forgive the Man, Cast the Woman Aside 

The Poet's Welcome 

All Will Be Well 

But Once 

Watchfulness. 

Battle Cry 

Labor Day 

Farewell to the Pastor 

Messenger Boys 

The Old Settlers' Picnic 

Xmas Memories 

The Old Settlers 

God Save the Flag 

Opportunities 

The Camp-Meeting Skillet 

Thanksgiving Song . 

The Ice King's Farewell 

Looking Backward . 

Lake Pleasant 



Contents, 



Baby is King 

Christmas Bells 

The Policeman's Beat 

The Queen's Bath 

My Mother's Hand 

Move Forward 

Truth 

Imprints 

A Lesson 

Easter Lilies 

Decoration Day 

The Problems of Life 

Festival Song 

The Police 

Golden Wedding Bells 

Acrostic .... 

The Eightieth Birthday 

Genevra .... 

Fancy 

The Grinder's Plaint . 

To Thomas Jackson 

The Indian Maid's Song 

Simeon, Bard of Souegan 



XI 

PAGE 

93 
94 
96 

98 
99 
100 
101 
102 
103 
104 
106 
107 
108 
109 
no 

113 
114 
116 
117 
119 

120 

121 
122 



MYSTIC POEMS. 

Thought 125 

Spirit Song 126 

The Morning Star 127 

The Temple Guard 128 



xii Contents. 

PAGK 

Spiritual Science 130 

Reincarnation 132 

Ab Intra . 134 

Esoteric ......... 135 

Inspiration 136 

Recognition 138 

An Angel's Kiss 139 

The Ancient Order of Essenes .... 140 

Lillian to Edna 142 

Heliobas Casamir 143 

The Spirit Guide 144 

Affinity 145 

Love's Bells 148 

Possession 150 

Prophecy 151 

MEMORY BELLS TO THE ARISEN. 

Memory Bells 155 

Grandma Dimmick . . . . . . .'156 

Our Dannie 158 

Brother Steve 159 

Hon. John Deere ....;., 160 

Little Herbert ..;.... 162 

To Ida 164 

To Louie 166 

Assurance 168 

To Arthur 170 

Edith Ennis ......... 171 

To Emma 173 



Contents. 



xm 



Stricken Plymouth 
Fulfillment 
Harry Guy 
George D. Gould 
Our Fred 
Baby Harry Dunn 
Gertrude Horrell 
Arthur Wheelock 
Hester A. Huey 
Dr. Samuel Swan 
George Thompson . 
Captain Hawley 
Aunt Lydia Wheelock 
Josiah Healy 
Gone Home 
Memories 



PAGE 

174 

175 
177 
178 
179 
180 
181 
182 
183 
185 
186 
187 
188 
189 
190 
191 



MISCELLANEOUS 



INVOCATION. 

Transposition of the Lord's Prayer. 

OUR Father, who in heaven art, 
All hallowed be thy name. 
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done 

On earth, in heaven the same, 
Wilt thou this night fair pearls of light 

Drop deep within each soul, 
And with life's wine, thy love divine, 

Fill up each golden bowl ; 
From out of evil's path, O God ! 

Lead thou our sinking feet ; 
Forgive, and teach us thus, O Lord ! 

That to forgive is sweet; 
And thine the kingdom, thine the power, 

Shall heralded be to worlds afar, 
And chanted by angelic choir, 

Whose echoes ring from star to star; 
While thus on earth life's waves we stem, 

Hear this our prayer, O God ! Amen. 



1 8 "Neither do I Condemn Thee. 



'NEITHER DO I CONDEMN THEE." 

THE morning broke; up from the east 
With scorching heat came the king of 
day, 
Making still hotter the dusty street, 
Where scores of Jews, with sandaled feet, 
Were passing the hours away. 

Within the temple's lighted hall 

Stood he, that Teacher sent of God ; 

With lessons pure, and heaven-sent, 

He taught each one who sat, 

While lent they ears to catch each word. 

Ope' came the door, and in their midst 
A new band quick a woman brought ; 

And told the Master for the sin 

She did, and just was taken in 

The very act, to serve as Moses taught. 

And he, the Master, bent his head. 

And wrote, as though he heard them not, 
Then said: "If ye would have it so, 
He without sin the first stone throw." 

They turned and left the spot. 



"Neither do I Condemn T/iee." 

The woman, pale and trembling, stood 

Filled full of guilty shame ; 
Sad her face with threatening fear, 
Dreading the sentence she should hear 

When he should speak her name. 

Full in her face his blue eyes gazed, 

Filled with love's holy light; 
With voice of sweetest melody, 
Said : ' ' Woman, who thy accusers be 

Of this thy sorry plight? " 

I have none, Lord;" her words came low 

Her eyes cast to the floor 
Waited the judgment as of men; 
'Twas this : ' ' Neither do I condemn ; 

Go thou and sin no more." 

To all the world, as unto them, 

This moral truth was given : 
Lift up the wrong and erring one, 
Tell him how better deeds are done, 

'Twill make on earth your heaven. 



2o Reverie. 



REVERIE. 



SOFTLY the light sinks into the west ; 
The day is now done, 
Its hours, one by one 
Are numbered, and silently rest. 

Over the wall the shadows are falling, 

And night like a pall 

Settles o'er all ; 
Day is past and beyond our recalling. 

And we wondered what deeds, by angels' hands 
planned, 

Have filled up the hours, 

When scattered we flowers 
Whose fragrance on earth cannot end. 

Oh, sweet as a dream was the promise of dawn ! 

The work planned to do, 

And the vows to be true 
Were as bright as the coming of morn. 

But shattered the vase, the roses lie spilled, 

Their fragrance all gone. 

So the hours pass on, 
Ne'er again can their sweets be distilled. 



Mary Magdalene. 21 

Oh ! the dream of a life, as a vapor 'tis past, 

And our work here is done, 

And set is our sun, 
But " at home it is morning at last." 



MARY MAGDALENE. 

WHEN the Master's hand 
Touched the rusted wire 
Its harmony had fled ; 
The shrine held but that wild, strange fire 

That glows above the dead. 
But back in the spring-time of her youth, 
Came the visions she had when a child, 
She knelt and quaffed at the fount of truth, 
And looked in his face and smiled. 

She put aside her jewels and dress; 

vShe bade her lovers farewell ; 
And on to her angel lovliness 

Did she grow 'neath his magic spell. 
The hot blood cooled, the red rose died, 

And when her heart was given, 
She ne'er again left the Savior's side, 

But followed the cross into heaven. 



22 Old Eben Gray. 



OLD EBEN GRAY. 

OLD Eben Gray was wrinkled and bald, 
And his eyes were growing dim ; 
For three score years he had worked and toiled 

With a wonderful store of vim ; 
And all the strokes from boyhood days 

Old Eben Gray had struck, 
His neighbors declared, in various ways, 
Had brought him his share of good luck. 

He had lands, he had gold in many a bank, 

And ships proudly riding the seas ; 
He had pledges of trust from men of high rank, 

And medals of different degrees, 
Given for merited worth, it was thought, 

When the gifts seemed so truly his own, 
And all that wealth could purchase was bought 

That his name and his fame might be known. 

Just at the close of one summer's day 

Old Eben was taken ill. 
So bidding his clerks lay careful away 

The goods, which his coffers did fill. 
He onward went to his stately home, 

Called a doctor, then went to bed ; 
The grave M. D. most quickly did come, 

But ere morning old Eben was dead. 

***** * 



Old Ebcn Gray. 23 

He opened his eyes on a world so strange, 

He was most surely amazed ; 
And gazing on scenes in his vision's wide range, 

Wondered much if his brain was not crazed. 
' ' I was there ! I am here ! Pray, what can it mean, 

And where are my children and wife? 
Zounds ! bother my brains ! it must be a dream ! 

They come so often in life." 

Just then he felt a soft touch on his arm, 

And, looking round quickly, espied 
A stranger, who bade him feel no alarm ; 

He had only been sent as a guide 
To show him the harvest of seed he had sown 

While he on the earth lived his life ; 
How many wild tares with the wheat there had 
grown ; 

How freedom had mingled with strife. 

He looked, and lo ! what men had called gold 

Was nothing but ashes and dust, 
And over his store of wealth all untold, 

Crept a mantle of mold and of rust. 
His bank stocks had faded, his lands were of naught, 

All, all, had brought him no worth, 
And the name and the fame so dearly he sought 

Were remembered no more on the earth. 

But out of the mass which his vision beheld 
There sparkled some gems of bright hue, 



24 The Mail Carriers. 

"These," said the guide, as his feelings were 

quelled, 
' 'Are the good deeds of life you did do. 
Not houses or lands, not silver or gold, 

Can ere find a dwelling place here ; 
But joys that ne'er to the world can be told 
Reward duties well done in your sphere. 

" Now for the new life: forget all the past, 

Live for the noble and true, 
And just as your life lines here will be cast, 

You shall receive your just due." 
And so to all friends who live trpon earth, 

This moral truth must be given : 
Live for those things which bring you true worth, 

Those only can fit you for heaven. 



THE MAIL CARRIERS. 

OUT in the heat, and out in the cold, 
Bearing a wealth of greetings untold ; 
Caring not for wind, rain or snow, 
As on their route the carriers go, 
Crying out " mail ! " at the homes where they pass, 

Bringing a smile, or causing a tear, 
For destiny casts her gifts in a mass, 
Bringing both woe and good cheer. 



The Mail Carriers. 25 

Out of the windows, watching their feet, 
Eyes often gaze their coming to greet ; 
Children whose hearts with happiness sing, 
Wonder just what the carriers bring ; 
Little they know of the beauty and power, 

These little white messages every day tell ; 
Little they know how many sad hour 

Will ring as a funeral knell. 

Letters of joy and letters of woe; 
Letters of love, on wings how they go ! 
Letters of hate that sting to the death ; 
Letters one dare not read 'bove their breath ; 
Letters of hope with wordings of gold, 

Whose value each heart that's waiting can sing ; 
Letters of wealth, with trappings untold, 

These all the carriers bring. 

Letters that bear these words, " will you pay?" 
Brought too often by them on the way ; 
Letters from friends far over the seas; 
Greetings and kisses are borne on the breeze ; 
Letters from sons, far from the old home, 

Speak in accents to memory dear; 
Letters, oh, letters ! What blessings oft come, 

When the carrier's footsteps appear. 



26 To-Day and To-Morrow. 



TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW. 

TO-DAY the farmer is sowing his seed, 
To-day falls the sunshine and rain ; 
To-morrow how many that's hungry shall feed 
From the heart of that golden grain. 

To-day an acorn falls from the tree, 
Finds a place in the soft, leafy mold ; 

To-morrow a ship proudly rides o'er the sea, 
With its cargo of people and gold. 

To-day a sweet babe, which the finger of God 
Has marked with sweet smiles and bright eyes; 

To-morrow an old man is laid 'neath the sod, 
And a soul finds its home in the skies. 

To-day hopes are crushed and hearts beat with 
woe, 

The clouds have lost their bright lining ; 
To-morrow the burdens are lifted, and lo ! 

How brightly the glad sun is shining. 

To-day we all build for the coming of years 

Each a temple of ashes or gold ; 
To-morrow eternity quiets our fears, 

And the tale of each life-work is told. 



Golden Wedding Bells. 27 



GOLDEN WEDDING BELLS. 

Mr. and Mrs. Michael Hartzell, 
May 5th, 1886. 

FIFTY golden bells ring out this wedding 
morn, 
Fifty golden miles along the way you've gone ; 
Apple buds and clover bloom, fifty times you've 

seen 
Followed by cold winter's breath and his icy sheen. 

There's a murmur in the air, a whispering in the 

trees, 
They are coming, coming, coming, like richly 

ripened sheaves; 
Coming with young faces, coming with gray hair, 
Happy in the greeting of yon long wedded pair. 

Many years ago, one long remembered day, 

A little child from heaven stopped upon the way, 

Found a mother watching with wildly beating 

heart, 
Found a father waiting to take an active part. 

Summers came and went, apple bloom and clover 
Came and went again, brought with them a lover; 
Took the maiden fair from the sweet home nest, 
Called her forth with him to the wild west. 



28 Golden Wedding Bells. 



As did Ruth of old, so the maiden said, 
I will follow thee, where'er we may be led, 
We will build a home, raise an altar there, 
Consecrate our hearth-stone to God's praise and 
prayer. 

Years have come and gone, and we are here to-day 

To celebrate their wedding, to crown them with 
the bay ; 

To watch the tide of years that come with bless- 
ings fraught, 

That tenderly has touched them as lightly as a 
thought. 

Four generations here, and one that's far away, 
Whose spirit blesses them, as flowers the month 

of May; 
Who breathes a heart-felt prayer, if meet they 

here no more, 
They'll meet and love again on that bright, golden 

shore. 

And as the years shall glide more quickly down 

time's stream, 
May life still be to them as one long summer's 

dream. 
May pansies bright, and daisies, the flowers of 

thought and hope, 
Be strewn along their pathway, down the golden 
- slope. 



May. 29 

And when the day is ended and night comes here 
no more, 

The golden bells of heaven will call them to that 
shore. 

Amid the courts of heaven, they'll hear the shout 
" Well done! • 

Thy earthly life is ended, come home, dear child- 
ren, come! " 



MAY. 

WITH her witching graces, 
Tripping o'er the grass, 
Bearing baby faces, 

See our May queen pass; 
Daffodils and crocus, 

Snowdrop and bluebell, 
With the fresh green clovers, 
Cover hill and dell. 

Do you see how coy 

When April, her sad brother, 
vSheds his floods of tears 

Her queenship to bother? 
She stamps her little foot, 

And drops her apron white, 
And gathers near the little brooks 



30 May. 

With laughter and delight. 
She sends the elves with fairy cups, 

To water all the flowers, 
And bids the trees store juices up 

For summer's coming hours. 

O May, so sweet and tender, 

The bridal queen art thou ! 
Thy touch with fairy whiteness 

Of waving branch and bough ; 
Thy whisper of sweet berries 

To come with blushing June, 
When kissed to deepest scarlet, 

Beneath thy silver moon, — 
We greet thee with thy beauty, 

Our loving tribute bring, 
For each recurring duty 

Our highest praise shall bring. 



The Peeks kill Cadets. 31 



THE PEEKSKILL CADETS. 

OH, the rollicking days of a schoolboy's life. 
How they pass with a laugh and a sigh ! 
When the cricket match 
And the game of ball; 
With the toss and catch 
And the umpire's call, 
How merrily speeds the time along, 
As we greet each heart with mirth and song ! 

Oh ! the solemn days of the schoolboy's life, 
When the lessons are hard to learn; 

When, turn where he may, 

And work as he will, 
With facts he cannot 

His "blam'd" noddle fill; 
When the marks loom up that he must erase, 
And no other chap can take his place. 

Oh, the joyous days of the schoolboy's life, 
When the victor's crown he wears ! 

When, with work all done, 

And reward in hand, 
He bids farewell 

To the schoolmate band ; 
And he treads the earth a very king 
As his heart the songs of triumph sing. 



32 Do His Biddin 



Oh, the memory days of the schoolboy's life, 
How they glide down the passing years! 
And never forgot, 

In joy or pain, 
Each well loved spot 
Tho' it comes not again. 
Who would forego, in peace or in strife, 
The purpose so grand of a schoolboy's life? 



DO HIS BIDDING. 

SOME little thing for the Master, 
No matter how lowly it seem, 
A tear, a song, or a message, 

To shed o'er some pathway love's beam ; 
To bear the crosses he sends thee ; 

To feel for the touch of his hand ; 
To follow where his feet shall guide thee, 
The path to the promised land. 

Some little thing for the Master, 

Sow thy seed all waters beside ; 
Be thou not anxious for harvests, 

Let his promise in you abide ; 
Be faithful, be earnest, be loving ; 

His praises most joyously sing; 
Work on till his angel shall call thee 

To dwell with the Master, our King. 



Life's Trials. $$ 



LIFE'S TRIALS. 

THEY will come; oh, never doubt it! 
Though to-day the sky's serene, 
Thougii the soul, on pinions lifted, 

Sees no clouds that intervene ; 
Yet to-morrow all the glory, 

Which we thought might long remain, 
Has departed, and we bury 

Hopes beneath the snow and rain. 

They will come; but shall we meet them 

With our idly folded hands? 
Shall we bow beneath their pressure 

Till they seem like iron bands? 
Shall we, with impatient murmurs, 

As they glide in day by day, 
Leave unworked our given talent, 

Turning all life's gold to gray? 

They will come; but oh, my brother! 

Oh, my sister, loved and true ! 
They are given for a purpose, 

Though to-day it puzzles you; 
Yet life's sands are ever flowing, 

One by one they onward go; 
And in future sweetness glowing, 

You its mystery shall know. 



34 Our S J lips. 

They will come ; but bear them bravely : 

After midnight comes the morn. 
They will come ; but not forever 

Shall we know earth's wind and storm; 
For in homes beyond the river, 

By the silver shining sea, 
Where peace and joy abideth ever, 

From earth's trials we'll be free. 



OUR SHIPS. 

BACKWARD through the drift of years 
To the hours of long ago, 
Oft do we sail our memory barks 

Freighted with joy and woe. 
Oft do we touch at some flowery isle, 

Oft do we reach to the barren shore ; 
Send out ships with a hope and a smile, 
That return to our ports no more. 

Shall we gather again the dreams of our youth? 

Shall we stand in their golden glow 
Of joys now gone and hopes now fled 

With those ships of long ago? 
Shall we watch for them from some other shore? 

Shall we list for their distant bell 
That shall prove to our hearts they are ours once 
more ? 

Ah, who of us here can tell? 



The Glorious Fourth. 35 



THE GLORIOUS FOURTH. 

AN empty sleeve, a vacant eye, 
Two teeth knocked out, a nose awry, 
A visage black with powder spent, 
A pair of pants not worth a cent ; 
Oh, don't our glory mount up high, 
As onward rolls Fourth of July! 

A picnic, dog fight, forty fires; 

Much fun to quicken army sires; 

A fizzle, fuzzy, rattle bum, 

Tattoo of fife and whir of drum, 

Our names, like fireworks, mount on high. 

As onward rolls Fourth of July. 

A summing up of money spent, 
Query we then where it all went. 
The young men wishing 'twas a dream 
That all girls did so love ice cream. 
And when the day has wandered by, 
How glad its gone, Fourth of July ! 



36 Always Faithful. 



ALWAYS FAITHFUL. 

ALWAYS faithful, though thy pathway 
Shrouded be in darkest gloom ; 
Oft the crystal gates of heaven 

Open widest at the tomb; 
Flowers crushed give back sweet fragrance, 

Sweetening all the summer air, 
And on all his grand creations 
God has written everywhere, 
Always faithful. 

Always faithful ; child of sorrow, 

Morning ever follows night ; 
Dark to-day, but bright to-morrow 

Fills your mourning soul with light. 
God, our father, ne'er forgets us 

Howe'er lowly we may be; 
But his loving hand will guide lis 

That his promise we may see, 
Always faithful. 

Always faithful ; thus we bid you, 

In your onward march of life, 
Step up grandly to its music, 

Leave behind all sin and strife; 
Angel bands from heaven's portals, 

Send this message down to earth, 



The More Beautiful. 37 

Telling - unto every mortal 

Thus they estimate true worth, 
Always faithful. 

Always faithful to each brother, 

Be he fallen e'er so low; 
Though his sins be as the scarlet, 

Love will whiten as the snow ; 
Then when all life's sheaves are g-arnered 

By the angel reaper's hand, 
We will walk beside the river, 

In that beauteous summer land, 
Always faithful. 



THE MORE BEAUTIFUL. 

It is to be known that the human form of every man, after 
death, is the more beautiful as he has more intensely loved divine 
truths and lived them. — Swedenborg. 

AYE ! we with the sculptor's chisel 
May bring from the marble of life 
Models of wondrous beauty, 

Free from all taint of strife ; 
Free from the touch of earth's ashes, 

Bright with the aura of love, 

Thus may we build up our temple 

For the blest homes up above. 



38 The More Beautiful. 

How shall we fashion this dwelling? 

Shall it be builded with creeds? 
Shall its foundation be teachings 

Without the performance of deeds? 
Will all the glare and the glitter, 

Purchased with fame and with gold, 
Be wrought in so wondrous a manner, 

The angels will smile to behold? 

Never ; for words are as bubbles ; 

Creeds are as worthless as dross, 
Which, with the life of each mortal, 

Will count him no profit, but loss, 
Save as he maketh his precepts 

Always go hand in hand 
Along with his every day practice, 

As he journeys on through the land. 

To him that's an hungered give bread 

To bring back the forces of life. 
Don't tell him "the Lord will provide it; " 

Perchance he's a child or a wife 
Who need his protection still longer; 

And poor as ye think it may be, 
To them it may fill up the measure 

That your loved ones fill up to thee. 

Let Charity's mantle of sweetness, 

And Mercy's pure garments so soft, 
First cover the sins of thy brother, 



God's Benefits. 39 

Then teach him to look up aloft, — 
Up to the home of bright angels, 

Love-lighted by God evermore. 
If need be, then give him your hand, 

To lead him in sight of the door. 

And then, when the form of the flesh 

Shall be given for one of the soul, 
When the red wine of life is all wasted, 

And broken the golden bowl, 
Then formed to the joy of the father, 

You'll join the bright angel band, 
And dwell in pastures so green, 

At peace in that far better land. 



GOD'S BENEFITS. 

HOME, faith, sunshine, perfect peace; 
A constant care which cannot cease ; 
A plucking out from paths of sin ; 
Strong arms of love to hold me in, — 
These all are gifts from Him. 

A fear calmed down by love untold ; 
Earth's dross changed here for purest gold; 
Soiled raiments for the purest white ; 
A heavy cross for crown of light ; 
Heaven's daylight for earth's night. 



40 The Rowers. 



THE ROWERS. 

ROW, boys, row; 
. Ply with a zeal the strong oar ; 
On with a dash, 
Make the waves flash, 
There's many that watch from the shore. 

Row, boys, row; 
Let your pulse beat steady and strong ; 

Whatever's at stake, 

Do not forsake 
The current of right for the wrong. 

Row, boys, row, 
Though shoals and reefs may abound ; 

Watch well you may, 

By night and by day, 
That your boat may ne'er run aground. 

Row, boys, row; 
If each do the best that he can, 

Whoever may win, 

Feel no chagrin, 
Though they count not yourself the best man. 

Row, boys, row; 
You'll run into port by and by, 



Love's Answer. 41 

True to your trust, 
Judged by the just, 
You'll show the real colors that fly. 

Row, boys, row; 
Pull with a strong arm through life ; 

Though waves may run high, 

And dark grow the sky, 
You'll anchor away from its strife. 



LOVE'S ANSWER. 

OH, Jean! " said I, "your face is fair, 
Your cheeks are as the roses red, 
The gold is shining in your hair ; 

Say, sweetheart, would you with me wed? " 
"How could I help it, Jock," said she, 
With those eyes flashing into mine ; 
"Where two of just one mind agree, 

Somehow those hearts must intertwine. 
And if I tried to get away, 

And couldn't go, why, Jock," said she, 
"Who'd be to blame? Not I; would you? — 
It's just a happy mystery." 



42 Drift Thought. 



DRIFT THOUGHT. 

BACK in the days of childhood dawn, 
I gathered the daisies so fair; 
Fragrant they as the breath of the morn, 

That swept o'er the earth so fair; 
Gathered them pure and sweet as a pearl, 

Pressed them close in my heart and hands, 
Gathered them out of life's swift whirl, 

Wove their tints into aural bands : 
Out of the gloom that their beauty might last, 

Gathered I daisies in days that are past. 

Oft do those dreamings come to me. 

Though we may not weave with the thread that 
is lost 
Of hours that will not return to me ; 

The wheel once turned, that water is past ; 
Yet over it all comes a golden glow, 

And my heart grows warm with those faded 
years, 
Though my daisies sleep beneath the snow 

And my dream-buds are wet with sad, sad tears. 

Into the cloud-land those daisies of morn 
Are held perchance by an angel hand ; 

Again on earth, could they once return, 
Could I gather again at my demand? 



Messenger. 43 

Out of the limitless, dark unseen 

The dream comes again and again to me, 

And I shall clasp to my heart again 

Those daisies blooming across life's sea. 



MESSENGER. 

LOVE, you have wings and beautiful things, 
-/ Go to the sick and the sad, 
Shower their dreams with thy golden beams, 

Make them happy and glad. 
Tell them the skies forever are blue, 
No matter if rain-drops are now falling through ; 
Tell them the Sun God at Nature's strong call 
Showers his treasures on one and on all. 

And, Love, pray stop as you go on your way, 

Where faces are sorry and glum 
And envy your wings, and songs that you sing 

Will not in their restless hearts come. 
Then stoop with a kiss, in a moment of bliss 

Trill a song from the notes of a bird ; 
Then up and away on the wings of the day 
Ere you feel the deep joy you have stirred. 



44 Farewell. 

FAREWELL. 

To Rev. A. R. Morgan. 

ALONG each path of life are strewn the wrecks 
l Of buried hopes, and hearts, and fears ; 
And life's bright, gladsome days do often keep 

A record of deep sighs and tears ; 
For pathways, which ran side by side, 

Diverge, and partings sad must come ; 
And friends into whose eyes we've gazed, 
Speak sad farewells and seek another home. 

And thus has come the call of life to thee 

In other hearts the seed to sow, 
That it may bring, in days that are to be, 

A harvest that thou see'st not now. 
And we must see you go with tearful eyes, 

And press thy hand in friendship given, 
Knowing some into whose eyes you gaze, 

You may again not meet this side of heaven. 

Dear friends, we hope for you the future years 

Filled full of brightest hours be given ; 
Long life, kind friends, and loving words 

To take the place of hopes now riven. 
For we who love can ne'er forget 

The work that thou for us did'st do, 
That changed to joy the darkest hour, 

And in life's path God's blessings strew. 



CJirist is Risen. 45 

So take these buds of purest friendship given, 

And wreathe them where they cannot die, 
That thou their changing beauty meet 

Some day beneath that fairer sky 
Where partings cease, tears cannot fall, 

And we our loving lost shall greet 
When we who part shall gather all 

About our blessed Master's feet. 



CHRIST IS RISEN. 

LOWERS, send forth your fragrance sweet 
Birds sing out your tender lays ; 
Everywhere shall glad hearts meet, 

Sing God's name in lofty praise. 
Christ has conquered o'er the foe, 
Night is gone, we fear no more, 
He has risen from the tomb, 
And his Father's power doth show. 

Christ has risen. Bless his name : 

He alone can point the way; 
Christ has risen, and his fame 

Shall descend to endless day. 
Peal, ye bells ! His praises sing ! 

Death and sin shall reign no more ; 
Christ has risen, and doth bring 

Life to us for evermore. 



Autumn Thoughts. 



AUTUMN THOUGHTS. 

THE days of the falling leaves, 
And the frost king's magic art; 
The days of the garnered sheaves 

That gladden the farmer's heart, 
Have come again in their beauty, 

Found their place in the yearly ring 
Come, at command of duty, 

From old Father Time, their king. 

In the brightly tinted wood, 

Obeying Dame Nature's call ; 
The squirrels, in frolicsome mood, 

Gather the nuts that fall ; 
Swift to their homes they speed, 

Lay by their winter store ; 
Knowing it all they will need 

E're spring shall open her door. 

List to the music of rain-drops 

Pattering soft on the roof ! 
How do the thoughts of past days 

Weave in their colors for woof ? 
How do the voices of loved ones, 

Gone in the autumn of life. 
Whisper in sweetest of tones 

Of homes away from earth's strife? 



Autumn Thoughts. 47 

Onward, with stately march, 

Has Summer followed fair Spring ; 
While Autumn is now on the watch 

To greet the bold Winter King. 
One by one, with their brothers, 

The days, fraught with light and shade, 
Have sped, to give place to the others, 

And show the record they made. 

Many that now by the hearth-stone 

Gladden our hearts to-night, 
Will leave us all sad and alone, — 

Will stand on a heavenly height ; 
Tread the bright path of angels, 

Never thus trod before ; 
Sing the sweet song of evangels, 

E'er to us comes Autumn once more. 

Then may the seed we have sown 

Wait for the reaper's hand ; 
May no tares with the wheat be grown 

For the bread of the promised land ; 
But soft as the falling of leaves, 

Sweet as the whisper of love, 
At last may we gather life's sheaves 

Meet for the garner above. 



48 An Idyl. 



AN IDYL. 

IN ancient days a pollywog, 
With a tail most long and thin 
Sat idly on a mossy log, 
And thus he piped his hymn : 
"Ah, woe is me! Ah, woe is me! 
Not long this goodly tail I'll see." 

Up jumped a jolly, big bullfrog, 
And said, with many a croak, 
'Well, what of that? Well, what of that? 
Just treat it as a joke; 
For you, my friend, will truly say 
A shorter tail is out the way." 

1 Now, frogs there are that we shall find 
Are quite mixed up with human kind ; 
And frogs sometimes are worn on clothes, 
And frogs on railroads, I suppose ; 
But can you tell me why 'tis so 
That they are minus tails to grow? " 

The pollywog, with wisest look, 

Just listened to his friend, 

And said, ' ' Well, with your hind legs off 

You'll surely find your end; 

And in the soup, and in the soup, 

You surely will be gobbled up." 



c> ■> 



The Sin i. 

Down jumped the bullfrog, said " Ker cheg 

Well, I will say good-bye, 

For when I see you next, my friend, 

Your tail I'll not espy; 

But this I tell, but this I tell, 

That all is best that endeth well." 



49 



THE SUN. 

FOUNTAIN of life and splendor; 
Sevenfold, myriad, one; 
Pulsating, quickening, tender, 

Thy mighty course to run 
Where flash thy rainbow crystals, 

Where beams thy moonlight white, 
Where stars like mystic vestals 
Speak of thee through the night. 

Oh, Father of earth's being ! 

Oh, light of mystic spheres ! 
All shadows from thee fleeing, 

Shall no more curse the years ; 
But bud and bloom and fruitage 

Shall speak alike of love, 
Until again lost Eden 

Descends from thee above. 



5° 



The Watchers. 



THE WATCHERS. 



A WATCHER stood in the light-house tower, 
A storm was on the deep; 
And wind and waves in fury lashed 
The rock-bound coast, and howled and dashed : 
Which betided ill for the ships at sea 
If that watcher to trust should faithless be. 

A watcher high up in the vessel's shrouds 
Strained his eyes to see the shore ; 
A leak had sprung in the vessel's side, 
And she rode at the will of the wind and tide, 
And the fate of many a soul was held 
In the hands of one till the storm was quelled. 

He held his breath, when forth there sprung 
A ray of purest light, 
Which showed the snare of rocks beneath 
That would surely lead them down to death 
If the torch in the watcher's hand had died, 
And no ray had come o'er the surging tide. 

The watchers stand in" many a tower, 
And view the life barks grand 
That are on the sea — in the maddening whirl 
Of ruin and wrong in sin's deep swirl; 
But they stand at their post with unflinching hand, 
And their torch of light marks the way to the land. 



The Agricultural Editor. 51 

God bless the watchers on land or on sea, 
That dwell in the earth below; 
Their mission so true, their hearts so tried, 
And tho' at their posts they have lived and died, 
Yet the light sent forth from their distant tower 
Will bless their lives to their dying hour. 



T 



THE AGRICULTURAL EDITOR. 

J. W. Warr, of the " Plowman." 

URNING the soil with the glistening steel, 
Singing a song as on he may go. 
Treading dull care under his heel, 

With a " Git up, Jennie! " " Git along, Joe! " 
Softly the wind blows through the torn hat, 

Tinges the strong face with heat and with tan, 
Little he cares for this or for that, 
He is only the happy plowman. 

Threading the mazes of paper and book, 

vScratching his head with the point of his pen ; 
Evolving a pun with a word and a look, 

Treating with care of tools, beasts, and men ; 
Wondering where money will come for each bill ; 

Wishing more honesty dwelt within man, 
Dreaming- that he the moist soil miefht till, 

Wish he in fact Warr the other Plowman. 



52 Only a Brave Little Girl. 



ONLY A BRAVE LITTLE GIRL. 

I AM only a brave little girl, 
And I stand in my tiny might, 
To do whatever I can 

And work in the cause for the right. 
All around me, on every side, 

In this world so fair and bright, 
There are sins and sorrows so deep 
They blot out the sun's fair light 

I see fond mothers weeping, 

I see hands raised in prayer, 
I see brows plowed with wrinkles, 

And gray and snow-white hair; 
Tears for the sons and daughters, 

Prayers for the peace of home, 
Furrows for many a heart-ache 

That into their lives have come. 

What can we do to save them, 

We of the children's band? 
Bring them back to the brightness 

Of home and their native land? 
Our steps are short and feeble; 

Our hands are soft and small ; 
But our wills, if we work together, 

May crush the giants all. 



Only a Brave Little Girl. 53 

There's the demon Drink, and round him 

Are skulls and dead men's bones, 
And sobs, and sighs, and curses, 

And oaths, and murderer's groans. 
Too long has he ruled in terror, 

Too long have we feared his form ; 
But his ''die is cast," for we children 

Will pull all his strong-holds down. 

And Poverty's grim, gaunt form, 

Whose eyes we all watch with dread, 
With rags flaunting out at the windows, 

With babes oft crying for bread ; 
With feet that are bruised and bleeding, 

With limbs that chill with the blast, — 
She, too, must go, for we children 

Will watch and work to the last. 

Then, stronger than all is the giant 

Who walks with these two hand in hand, 
And has brought deep shame and dishonor 

On many proud homes in our land. 
He, too, we will bind with the chains 

Too long he has used for his own, 
And hurl him, with all his proud boasts, 

Forever down from his throne. 

We pledge to the White Cross our honor, 

We plight to the Red Cross our love ; 
No matter how dark be the weather 



54 Death in the Storm. 

Our strong- childish hearts will improve ; 
For Jesus has made us his servants 

When he said "Let them come unto me,' 
And we'll work when others grow weary, 

Till all our proud land shall be free. 



DEATH IN THE STORM. 

TOLL, toll the bell ! Toll for the ones that are 
gone! 
With never a sweet good-bye to those who are left 

alone ! 
Over the river of death, without a warning cry ; 
Blooming and bright the morn whose night shall 
see them die. 

Toll, toll the bell ! Anguish too great for tears ; 
Hearts crushed 'neath a weight of woe may not 

lighten in years. 
Sorrow and sadness met where sunlight before 

was known, 
Brows whose moments of grief into years of terror 

are grown. 

Take ye no thought of the day, ye know not what 

comes with the night ; 
Thus did the Master teach when he walked the 

earth in the light ; 



Death in the Storm. 55 

Only be ready ; my bidding ye know not what hour 
it may be — 

At day-break, at noon-tide, at midnight, the sum- 
mons may come unto thee. 

Oh, what a lesson to those whose treasure is only 

below ! 
Where is the silver lining to the cloud thus 

freighted with woe? 
To him who but bargains and sells, who lives for 

the joys of to-day, 
How like the vapor of morning earth's joys vanish 

away. 

Watch, for ye know not the hour! Then let us 
strive to be true, 

vSowing the seed while we tarry, with heaven for- 
ever in view. 

Then let the summons come, in the wind or 
sheeted flame, 

"All ready! " the Master shall signal, "receive ye 
them in my name ! ' ' 



56 Woman's Future. 



WOMAN'S FUTURE. 

WE bespeak for woman in future 
A place in man's heart she never has 
known. 
A right to his scepter, a right to his throne, 
A right to the ballot, a right to the field 
Wherever man fights, her courage his shield. 
She will comfort and aid him, 

Will cheer and will bless, 
With her powers of mind, 
With her fondest caress. 
She will launch her life-boat 

To the fartherest star, 
She will gather from Jove 

The news from afar ; 
She will open the gates 

To the land of the soul, 
She will teach brother man 

The spirit's control. 
She will build up the tower 

Of agate and pearl, 
Of true woman's love 

From the wee tiny girl. 
Oh woman, look up ! 

Thy redemption is nigh, 
'Tis woven in rainbows 
Upon heaven's sky. 



Harvest. 5 7 

And the stars that once sung 

And shouted for joy, 
Your praises shall sing, 

Which naught can destroy. 
And man as the king, 

And woman his queen, 
Shall rule with pure love 

All this wide earth's fair scene. 



HARVEST. 

AS we give so we grow ; 
True, we reap what we sow ; 
Seeds of flowers, and bees and birds, 
Loving deeds and perfect words, 
Oft to our true lives are given, 
Making earth seem here like heaven. 

As ye sow shall ye reap ; 
Ever that deep lesson keep. 
From the darkness into light, 
Into day from blackest night, 
Thou must lead the weary feet, 
Making life still more complete. 



58 The Peace Plow. 



THE PEACE PLOW. 

The " Peace Plow" for the World's Fair exhibit was made in 
the celebrated John Deere Plow Works, Moline, Illinois. It was 
constructed of gifts from many places. The metal work was 
made of relics of swords, gun-locks, nails, and many other articles 
of historic interest; and among the valuable mementoes donated 
for the woodwork, were portions of Thomas Jefferson's desk on 
which the Declaration of Independence was written, a piece from 
a table used by William Penn, etc., etc. 

IT has been told in tale, and song, 
In every land and clime, 
From branch of wood, with its one prong, 

To ring of silver chime ; — 
The merits of the plow that turns 

The sod that man may sow 
The seed that brings his daily bread, 

And thus we sing it now. 
The dear old plow, the dear old plow, 

I love its song to sing, 
It cuts the furrows deep and wide, 
In days of early spring, — 
Of early spring. 

But, though we gaze on days of old, 

With sculptured vase and urn, 
When Homer poured his treasures forth 

And Plato's love did burn ; 
We look in vain for gleaming share, 



The Peace Plozv. 59 

Or ring of glistening steel, 
Or list for whistle in the air, 

As 'neath the plowman's heel 
The dear old plow, the dear old plow, 

Cuts swift the furrows deep, 
And has its grain sown in a row, 

While old-time farmers sleep ; 
Yes, lie and sleep. 

But now to-day, Time on his way 

Has dropped his scythe and glass, 
And says, "This nineteenth century day 

One moment I must pass, 
And take the handles of the plow 

For which my gifts were sent 
From many hearts and many hands 

And to this Peace Plow lent. 
I'll speed the plow, the new Peace Plow; 

I'll cut the furrows strong, 
I'll lay all weeds and errors low, 

And dig out every wrong, — 
Out every wrong." 

For thou, fair city of Moline, 

Whose myriad wheels do turn, 
To speed thy goods to every land, 

'Tis thou didst rightly earn 
To build for this Columbian year 

This plow, with merit brought, 
And take the gifts from far and near, 



60 By Their Fruits. 

And in this fashion wrought 
The Deere New Plow, the Deere Peace Plow, 

This plow shall lead the world, 
Be known in every land and clime 

Where our flag is unfurled, — 
Our flag unfurled. 



BY THEIR FRUITS. 

THE da3^s, how they come! The days, how 
they go! 
Slipped by Time as the nun counts over her 
beads ; 
Some rose-tinged with joy, some shadowed with 

woe, 
Yet destined alike on all souls to bestow 
A just reward for its deeds. 

The mother whose love, like the pearls of the sea, 
Shines sinless and pure in the heart of each babe, 
Will find its reflection more brilliant shall be, 
As the child, tempest-tost, turns itself towards 
the lea 
And grasps love's anchor to save. 

The friend who stands firm when whirlwinds of 
scorn, 



By Their Fruits. 61 

Cold looks, unkind words, assail those whom he 
loves, 
Shall have unseen guides pilot him through the 

storm, 
And unlooked for gifts to his hearth shall be borne, 
Even olive branches and doves. 

As ye sow shall ye reap, though the harvest be late, 
Figs from the thistles no man's hand may pluck ; 

Then why curse the ground? why bemoan thus 
your fate? 

If you've scattered but ashes, then do not berate 
The man whom you deem has good luck. 

But up, and to work ; bid the bubbles of earth 
To burst, and to man their emptiness show; 

And then what you earn shall bring you true worth ; 

Come rain or come shine, there ne'er will be 
dearth 
Of treasure wherever you go. 



62 The Rich Young Man. 



THE RICH YOUNG MAN. 

" That young man is rich who, laying his hand on his heart, 
can say, I have treated every man's sister as I would wish mine to 
be treated." 

HOW many of you are rich, young men? 
How many a hand have given 
In the guidance of a sister's steps, 
In the upward path toward heaven? 

Can you count your jewels by the score? 

Do they flash their brilliant rays 
In the deep recesses of your soul 

To brighten your nights and your days? 
Do you guard with care another's name 

Though there be no touch of kin? 
Do you pluck as a brand from out the name 

When their feet lead down to sin? 

The fall of one is the hurt of all ; 

For God has linked each soul 
In the chain of love to his own heart, 

Whose beatings none ever control. 

And he thus has taught unto all men, 
That the truth each one might see, 
" As ye have done to the least of them, 
Even thus ye did unto me." 



The Rich Young Man. 6$ 

Some man may stain e'en the garment white 

Of one that to yon was given ; 
On a heart you love may cast a blight, 

And its hopes shut out from heaven. 

But, remember, God ever pays the debt, 

Howe'er dark or light the stain; 
; The measure ye to others mete, 

Shall be measured to you again." 

So place your hand upon your heart ; 

Treat each man's sister true, 
That the jewels bright in your crown of light 

May never fade out from your view. 



64 Forgive the Man, Cast the Woman Aside 



FORGIVE THE MAN, CAST THE 
WOMAN ASIDE. 

GONE in the shadows of night, 
Out in the frost and the cold ; 
Gone with the mildew of blight 
Rusting her heart's purest gold. 
Can no one save her, 

Shield her from fate? 
Show her kind favor 
E'er it is too late? 

O, the deep anguish and tears 

Wrung from a fond mother's heart ! 
O, how the burden of years 

No more from that father can part ! 
She was his pearl, 

Guarded with care, 

His warm-hearted girl, 

None other so fair. 

Where is the tempter of Eden? 

What was his power to charm, — 
Turn her thoughts backward from heaven, 
Causing her soul no alarm? 
Ah ! as of old, 

In story and song, 
Its meaning is told — 

The weak and the strong. 



Forgive the Man, Cast the Woman Aside. 65 

List to the click of the latch ! 

She stands out under the stars ! 
He who has been on the watch, 
Binds her in passion's strong bars. 
Oh, never again, 

White as the snow, 

Free from heart pain, 

Joy may she know ! 

But the great Father above 

Looks in that young being's heart; 
From his deep fountains of love 
Tenderly judges her part. 
But the world's charity, 

Cruel and cold, 
'Tis such a rarity 
Few may behold. 

When in the coming of years, 

The right is gleaned from the wrong, 
Then will the tempest of tears 
Fall from the eyes of the strong. 
As each has sown 

So shall he reap ; 
All that we earn 
That only we keep. 



66 The Poet's Welcome. 



THE POET'S WELCOME. 

To Henry Denver. 

"/"\NE touch of nature makes the whole world 

\J kin." 
What matter, though we gaze not into eyes of 

flesh ! 
When the seal of poesy is set within the soul 
Spirit answereth unto spirit through all the spaces, 
And her dream-children she knows by their own 

creations. 
Brothers and sisters are we all, who minister 
From the heavenly fires unto earth's needs ; 
And when the beacon light, set within the 
Royal arch, shall lure us heavenward, 
Then shall we garner up the seed of tears and 

smiles 
And sighs and sorrows, which were our portion 

here. 
They are the immortal children which bear the 
Fragrance of sweet flowers, and through all time 
Will their bloom and fruitage encourage, cheer 

and bless; 
So I extend to you the hand of fellowship, and 
Welcome you as friend. The poet e'er is true; 
And in our work for others should we know 
Who blesses others blesses most himself. 



All Will Be Well. 67 



ALL WILL BE WELL. 

ALL will be well : though o'er thy path 
The hours of sadness come and go, 
Though clouds loom dark without one rift 
To let the prisoned rays shine through ; 
Though Love may seem to drift afar, 
And weave no more his magic spell, 
Yet wait ! some day will beam thy star ; 
All will be well. 

All will be well : think of the night 
So dark ere swung this world to birth ; 

Think of the ages marching on 

Ere " Light of Love" broke o'er the earth. 

Hope must have died, hearts must have bled, 
What sorrow felt we none can tell, 

Ere Jesus said of loving dead, 
All will be well. 

All will be well : but we must wait, 
Some star-beams are so far away 

That years may pass ere on our path 
Shall fall from them a single ray. 

But shine they will with light undimmed, 
With missions earth may never tell ; 

So God, in time, to each will prove 
All will be well. 



68 But Once. 



BUT ONCE. 



"\ ~X TE pass but once this way;" 

V V And as the days do come and go, 
Why seek to bid the shadows stay 

On others' paths? why bring them woes? 
Why pluck the thorn and leave the rose? 

Why quaff the bitter, leave the sweet? 
Those whom we meet between day's dawn 
and close 
We may again not greet. 

We pass but once this way : 

If life's sweet wine we may not quaff, 
If wheat be garnered not each day, 

But only rust and chaff, 
What shall the harvest be when all is o'er, 

And we are called to sleep? 
What record of the days that are to us no more ? 

What memories friends may keep ? 

We pass but once this way. 

Oh, let the sunshine's gold 
Light up each path now dull and gray, 

And warm those hearts now cold ! 
Let friendship's flowers and love's sweet bloom 

Bedeck our way on every side, 
Then when we're laid within the silent tomb 

In hearts we love we have not died. 



Watchfulness. 69 



WATCHFULNESS. 

WATCH, for ye know not the hour! 
The Master's step is so still, 
It comes like a ray of sunshine 

That brightens some distant hill ; 
As the bright pearls of dew are gathered 

Swift from the heart of the flowers, 
So does our Savior come 

To claim our wealth of life's hours. 

Watch ! it may be from the cradle, 

Some sleeper his coming may claim, 
When the leaves of the bud closely folded, 

Burst open when God calls again ; 
When girlhood or boyhood's bright dream, 

Have no thought of care or dark sorrow. 
But, longing for power and fame, 

They take no heed of the morrow. 

And again, when the silvery hair 

Bears the touch of life's autumn leaves, 
When bowed 'neath a weight of care, 

He calls for our garnered sheaves; 
At morning, at noontide, at midnight, 

Wherever the summons may ring, 
Make ready the wedding garment 

And watch for the feet of our King. 



7o Battle Cry. 



BATTLE CRY. 

THE nation's battle cry is here; 
'Tis ringing down the years ; 
'Twas cradled in earth's bosom, 
Baptised with blood and tears. 
It has rung the knell of tyrants, 
Who freedom would lay low, 
And once again we chant it, 
As on we meet the foe, — 
" God and the people." 

It was " Young Italia's" motto, 

Perchance born in classic Rome ; 
It fires the heart with ardor, 

Usurps dark error's throne. 
It will bring the bread to hunger, 

It will strike the chains of toil, 
And to all foes of freedom 

Their every movement foil, — 
" God and the people." 

It is coming, yea, 'tis coming; 

Hear its shout upon the air! 
It is heard at early morning, 

At noon, and sunset fair; 
For the Father watching o'er us, 

Who would see his children free, 



Labor Day. 71 



And, with his sword of justice, 
Will prove to liberty, — 
" God and the people." 



LABOR DAY. 

SONS of toil, arise! awake! 
See your redemption drawcth nigh 
Signs of coming- morning break, 

Across the eastern dawn of sky. 
Upward like a scroll unrolls 

Work of artisans of old, 
Who, in search of distant goals, 
Did this new-born day unfold. 

Sons of toil, One speaks of old, 
"My Father works, so thus do I," 
Future good alone is told 

By present action of supply. 
Hurl the spindle, speed the plow, 

Ring the clinging hiss of steel, 
Build the palace — time is now 

Labor shall its power reveal. 

Sons of toil, hail now this day, 

Which was born of present need ! 
Let one undivided ray 



72 Labor Day. 

Light your path and be your creed. 
For the people and for God, 

Strike each blow of honest toil, 
Bow beneath no despot rod, 

Walk as freemen of the soil. 

Sons of toil, as brothers work ! 

Bring the coming hour of peace 
When no man can duty shirk, 

When all knowledge shall increase 
As the waters in the sea 

Roll their billows mountains high, 
Till the sons of labor see 

Royal gifts of victory. 

Sons of toil, awake ! arise ! 

Work, work on, till evening's close, 
When thy signal from the skies 

Calls from toil to seek repose ! 
Leave no stain upon thy shield, 

Do thy duty with thy might, 
Thus you truly win the field, 

With thy watchword, God and right. 



Farewell to the Pastor. 73 



FAREWELL TO THE PASTOR. 

WE cannot say farewell to you who have sown 
With bounteous hand such goodly seed; 
Nor can our heart's deep feeling tell 
How much of thee we stand in need. 

You who have plowed so strong and deep, 

When it was almost barren soil ; 
Who watched sad hours, when called to sleep, 

Sin's deep laid plans to foil. 

Dear pastor, though to-day you may not see 
The blossoms or the ripening fruit, — 

Only the tender buds, which show the tree 
Has taken deepest root; 

But in the glad to-morrow yet to come, 

Your weary hands, so full of care, 
At the ringing call of " harvest home ! " 

Their many sheaves shall bear. 

Sheaves that shall burst with golden grain, 

And gladden your weary heart, — 
Glad sign your work was not in vain, 

Nor from God's love apart. 



74 The Messenger Boys. 



MESSENGER BOYS. 

I WAS sitting by the window, gazing out upon 
the street, 
When on a walk beside the house I heard the tread 
of feet; 
Then up the steps, straight to the door, 

Came a little, dark-eyed lad, 
Who handed out a message, — 
My heart grew quickly sad ; 

For my eldest boy, the dearest unto his mother's 

heart, 
Had strayed from home a wanderer, for years had 
dwelt apart 
From those he loved ; we feared the worst ; 

We felt he'd wayward grown ; 
But morn and eve I'd prayed for him 
Before my Father's throne. 

I tore the message open and glanced along the 

line; 
Had God this answer sent me, rewarding faith of 
mine? 
It read, " I am coming, mother, 
Back to my home once more, 
I'm weary of my wandering, 
I'll leave you nevermore." 



The Messenger Boys. 75 

I kissed the lad beside me, who closely watched 

my face ; 
Unconscious in his little hand he'd brought me 
sweetest peace; 
I watched him pass along the street, 

My heart was filled with joy, 
And softly did that name repeat, — 
God bless that message boy. 

God bless those little messengers ! not always joy 

they bring 
To hearts who watch, but faithful to every trust 
they cling; 
To every duty of the day 

They speed with willing feet, 
And take each message laden 
With greetings sad or sweet. 

And some day may a message dear be sent o'er 

heaven's wires ; 
For duties done so bravely here our God, who 
never tires, 
Shall whisper, "All I have is thine; 

No message sad I bring; 
Come home and be my messengers 
In the palace of your King ! " 



76 The Old Settler's Picnic. 



THE OLD SETTLER'S PICNIC. 

BACKWARD on the flight of years 
We of the olden days 
Turn many a yearning look ; 
We see again the faces of our youth ; 
We hear the voices long in the silent past ; 
One by one companions sweet who journeyed 
At our side, shine on us from out of mem'ry's 
Retrospective glass, and point to scenes of by-gone 
Days which have for us such meanings 
That, like memories sacred, they are numbered 
With our treasures, and kept for our hearts alone. 

Time sweeps the folds aside ; we are a little band, 
True-hearted, brave and strong, with earnest 
Purpose filled, swerving not from duty, 
Facing foes unseen ; but carving each, 
Out of the stern purposes of life, 
A place among our fellows. 

No gold or silver trappings mark our way ; 
No stately mansions, towering to the skies ; 
But friendly deeds and kindly thoughts 
Bring to us love's most hallowed praise. 
When sorrows come, the heartfelt tear, 
The pressure of the hand, speak to our souls 
That brotherhood's true meed was ours 
Amongst our earnest band. 



The Old Settler's Picnic. 77 

The altar fires of sacrifice and wisdom rise to God. 
We consecrate our all. Schools, churches, shops, 
And stores, spring into being ; the busy 
Whirr of wheel and pulley, lathe and plane ; 
The pondrous hammer, or swift revolving saw, 
Flash into life, and, watched by brain and muscle, 
Evolve from wood and stone, from steel and brass, 
Forms of strength and beauty to do man's work, 
And stamp upon our honest shield, " Success," 
The price of labor. 

And now, to-day, we who have tarried in the ranks 

Are met again, to grasp the hand, 

To speak the kindly word, and drop a tear 

To those who laid life's burdens down, 

And on the road have passed to the 

City of the dead. The hair is silver 

With the frost of years ; the form is bowed ; 

The eyes are growing dim ; but the 

Warm life currents beat within our hearts 

To the same rhythm they beat to fifty years ago. 

And though the brow is furrowed deep, life is 

Grander, sweeter, dearer, as the end comes near 

to view 
When each shall lie him down to sleep. 

So we welcome all who meet us here 

To future joys and memories of the past; 
And drink you all of love and cheer, — 
These golden days are gliding fast. 



78 Xmas Memories. 

Let your laugh ring out ; let your heart be free ; 
Forget the passing years, 

And living in the glad " to be," 
Let smiles keep back the tears. 

And when the golden bowl is broke 

And the wine of life is spilled, 
When duties that with life awoke 

Shall all be grandly filled, 
We still shall live in the years to come 

In the hearts we meet to-day ; 
So we say, God bless, God guard, God keep, 

As we journey on our way. 



XMAS MEMORIES. 

I AM sitting in the twilight, 
And I watch the embers glow 
While my memory backward lingers 

To the days of long ago, 
When Kris Kringle down the chimney, 

With his spanking reindeer team 

And his wonder pack of playthings, 

Came into my childhood dream. 

Then the embers change and glisten, 

And I see a maiden fair, 
With her head bowed low to listen 

To a youth with modest air; 



Xmas Memories. 79 

High above, the mistletoe 

With its berries, pure and white, 

Catch the sparkle and the glow 
Of the fireside flame so bright. 

Then again, within the embers 

How the changes come and go, 
And I hear the merry sleigh bells 

Ring out pure across the snow ; 
Cousins, neices, aunts and uncles, 

To the great house on the hill, 
Meet to eat the Xmas banquet, 

And their happy thoughts distill. 

Years flow by as wife and mother; 

Faces peep from out the flaine, 
And I hear sweet childish voices 

As I whisper o'er each name. 
Back unto the mystic river 

Some have passed far from my sight ; 
But with love undying ever 

Weave my dreams this Xmas night. 

So I sit and watch the embers 

Till the moonlight floods the room, 
And the chime of sweet, sweet bells 

Tell with joy the Christ child come; 
" Peace, goodwill unto all people," 

For the Savior that is born, 
God's best gift throughout the ages, 

Is given every Xmas morn. 



8o The Old Settlers. 



THE OLD SETTLERS. 

I AM listening down the years 
As time's bell swings to and fro, 
And betwixt my smiles and tears, 

Hear the chimes of long ago; 
And I hush my breath to listen, 

What they tell in tones so deep, 
That sad tears my eyelids glisten, 
And I fain the truth would keep. 

For from out the mist of dream-land, 

Smile the faces we have known, 
And they beckon each a hand 

Toward that land to which they're flown ; 
And we hear them whisper, ' ' Patience ; 

'Tis not far betwixt you and me ; 
Bear your load, oh brother, sister, 

Soon 'twill be a memory ! " 

Then they turn their faces backward 

To the dial of the past, 
And they weave for me a picture, 

O'er it many a beauty cast; 
And I see no lofty steeples, 

No great homes or school-house grand, 
Only trees and grass and rivers, 

And the sunlight o'er the land. 



The Old Settlers. 81 



Then a band of brother workmen, 
Seeking westward for a home, 

Side by side with native Indian, 
On the picture next is thrown ; 

And their forms so strong and sturdy, 
And their faces full of cheer, 

Point out quickly to each other, 

" Stop, we'll stay and build homes here 



' Here are prairies broad and fruitful, 

Where each grain will fully yield ; 
Some can stay and build the cities, 

Some can go and till the field ; 
Some can turn the wheels and spindles, 

Some can bid the storehouse rise ; 
Working each with truest purpose, 

Soon our spires shall near the skies." 

Then the scene grows broader, grander; 

Onward waves each magic hand, 
And great mills and stores and churches 

Fill and busy make the land; 
Railroads whistle, bells clang wildly, 

Steamboats ply the riverside, 
And the products of the cities 

Soon are scattered far and wide. 

But the hearts of pioneer brothers 

With their work so interblend, 
That no future time can sever 



82 The Old Settlers. 

From their life their early friend ; 
Though far out upon the prairie, 

Though amid the city's din, 
None can be lost or forgotten 

Who their cause of home did win. 

So to-day, you of the morning, 

Whose young life here 'was spent, 
When to scenes of grandest labors, 

You your earnest forces lent, 
Are but now a little handful ; 

One by one have crossed the tide, 
And with faces sweet and joyful 

Watch us from the other side. 

But you look upon your labors, 

Scattered over hill and plain, 
And you call sweet mem'ries to you, 

And in them once live again ; 
But you gaze on other faces ; 

Strangers here from many a shore 
Followed on to take your places 

As the " tide did westward pour." 

And to-day we bid God speed you. 

Brothers all will firmly stand, 
Bound in ties of thought and feeling, 

To protect and keep this land. 
And to children of the future, 

Who shall still trace back the past, 



God Save the Flag. 83 

You will leave a glorious heritage, 
Hoping it for aye will last. 

And when summons come to bring you 

To your friends of early years, 
Who have crossed the tide before you, — 

Silent now their sighs and tears, — 
You will leave no act behind you 

That your future fame could mar, 
But to those who know and love you 

Shed your radiance as a star. 



GOD SAVE THE FLAG. 

GOD save the flag, 
With its stripes and stars ! 
God save the banner of the free ! 
Crown its face with glory, 
Let no bloody wars 
Stain its shield so pure with infamy ! 

God save the flag ! 

With the nation's birth 
Proudly it was flung upon the breeze ; 

With the blood of brothers, 

Melting in the earth, 
It has conquered over land and seas. 



84 God Save the Flag. 

God save the flag ! 

Men with silver hair, 
Mothers, wives and daughters love its folds 

Flashing out and moving 

In the upper air, 
With a passion-love our nation holds. 

God save the flag ! 

Let no traitor's hand 
Ever dare to blot out stripe or star; 

But for aye and ever, 

One united band, 
Sound our glory ever near and far. 

God save the flag ! 

Angels sent it down 
From that court where truest freedom dwells. 

Loyal we will meet 

Every despot's frown, 
Until o'er all earth rings freedom's bells. 



Opportunities. 85 



OPPORTUNITIES. 

THE days drift in, the days drift out, 
And life, like a sea, is breakers and foam ; 
Some we hail with a free, glad shout; 

Some have for us but a sigh and a moan. 
Like the deep undertone, the sad sob of the sea, 
True hearts are breaking from day unto day, 
And the way for a man to be noble and free 
Is to do a kind deed while he may. 

The years go by as a tale that is told, 

And dreams of our youth on life's sea float by; 
Dame Fortune to some flings showers of gold, 

While others in rags and poverty die. 
To give to the needy, to strengthen the weak, 

To speak words of cheer as we pass on our way, — 
No higher reward can any one seek 

Than to do a kind deed while he may. 

The eyes will grow weary, the footsteps be slow, 
And the hands will forget their burdens to bear ; 

The portal of death, with its sadness to know, 
Or its blessings and joy, will soon be our share. 

And the record the angel will inscribe with most 

joy, 

That will pay highest interest in heaven each day, 
Is of him who fails not to evil destroy, 
And to do a kind deed when he may. 



86 The Camp-Meeting Skillet. 



THE CAMP-MEETING SKILLET. 

HOW dear to my heart is the Tindall Grove 
camp ground 
When fond recollections bring back to my view ; 
I sit and I think of the days spent upon it, 

They may prove to be the best that I knew. 
The friends that I met there, the goodies I ate 
there, 
I still seem to see them so plain and so clear : 
The Tindall Grove camp ground, the Tindall Grove 
camp ground, 
Will not be forgotten for many a year. 

'Twas Jennie and Ella, who lived just " agin " us, 
Supplied us with fire and stove-room each day ; 
Where sweet Sister Hyde cooked the ham and the 
taters, 
While I looked and chatted, and stood in the 
way. 
But when meals were over, I washed up the dishes, 
And thought everything was clean to my mind, 
'Twas Sister Hyde's voice that startled the silence, 
"The skillet, why, bless me, she's left it behind!" 
That old-fashioned skillet, that black, shining 
skillet, 
Where I left the grease to fry in each day, 
I see when asleep, I see when awake, 

And, like Hamlet's ghost, it will not away. 



The Camp-Meeting Skillet. 87 

But kind Ida Barrett, the pert, slender school- 
marm, 

She came to my rescue, and cleaned it out well ; 
I found when I went it was clean, and so shining 

That dear Sister Hyde just got over her spell. 
And Ida smiled sweetly while working so neatly, 

And watched us when making the coffee and 
tea; 
I'll never forget her, but write her a letter, 

For washing that skillet so deftly for me. 
That old-fashioned skillet, that black, shining 
skillet, 

I wish Sister Hyde was now cooking some ham ; 
I'm hungry to eat it, and also to greet it, 

With Ella and Jennie and Ida, I am. 

So, girls, you'll remember, this day of September, 

As I tell to you my sad tale of woe ; 
I'll cling to my sister as close as a blister 

Can stick to a Hyde, wherever I go. 
Next year }^ou will find me, my skillet behind me, 

A-tagging around just the same as before ; 
And though oft regretting, I'll still be forgetting 

That old-fashioned skillet that hung near the 
door. 
The old-fashioned skillet, that Tindall Grove 
skillet, 

I know will be thought of when I've passed 
away. 
I've written this message, and now on its passage, 

With love and good will I send it to-day. 



88 Thanksgiving Song. 



THANKSGIVING SONG. 

WE thank thee, Father, for the summer days, 
For skies of tender blue ; for softening rain ; 
For fragrant flowers amid the grasses sweet ; 
For fields of golden grain. 
We thank thee that by mead and brook, 

Where'er thy feet have passed, 
vSome royal fruit of seed thou'st sown 
Has Nature's garner clasped. 

We thank thee, Father, for the sighs and tears, 
For smiles of peace, and love of many friends ; 
We thank thee also for thy chastening hand, 
Which joy and sorrow blends; 
We thank thee, that in looking back 

To days that come no more, 
We see just how thy love enfolds us in 
And guards us with its power. 

We thank thee, Father, that still on earth 

Our willing hands may work, lips speak thy 

praise — 
That time is left to still sow seed 
For coming harvest days. 
And would'st thou heed this meed of praise, 

Which comes from hearts of love, 
And shield us close in all the coming days, 
For thy pure courts above. 



The Ice King's Farewell. 89 



THE ICE KING'S FAREWELL. 

GOOD-BYE, old earth! I've decked thy form, 
So bare of all that beauty gives, 
With diamonds of the purest rays, 

As countless as thy summer leaves. 
From my vast palace of the north 

My treasure's rarest gems I bring, 
That thou mayest know the beauteous sway. 
Of me, cold winter's ice-crowned king. 

The pale blue of God's curtained sky, 

The soft white clouds that float below, 
Reflect the same sun-tinted rays 

God gave to earth in that first bow 
That spanned the heaven's royal arch, 

And told the watchers he was nigh, 
And evermore would guard the earth 

From danger safe as his pure sky. 

I feel the first faint kiss of spring; 

This gift to her I also bear, 
Though she may come in tender green, — 

No purer robes can she e'er wear. 
Good-bye, old earth ; let each fair month 

In colors chased by thee e'er glow ; 
I'll wield no more my magic touch 

Till winter's winds again shall blow. 



90 Looking Backzvard. 



LOOKING BACKWARD. 

DOWN the flight of the fleeting years, 
As they come to my view to-day, 
I count the milestones, one by one, 
Till fifty are passed on the way ; 
Until you stand at this hour of life 

And gaze on the joys now fled, 
That have come and gone as the shade and sun 
Since the day when you were wed. 

Out from the joyous, happy band, 

Out from the sweet home nest, 
You plighted heart and gave your hand 

To him you loved the best; 
To follow his fate, to walk by his side, 

Through weal and woe that might come, 
You took all risks and started forth 

To build with him your home. 

Up the slope for many years 

Together you climbed the way, 
Sharing the joys, the hopes the fears, 

God shed upon your way; 
Past the five, the ten, fifteen, 

Past the " silver " year, 
You shared with him the love of friends 

Who to both hearts were dear. 



Looking Backward. 91 

But e'er the golden hour had come 

That is marked by the milestone to-day, 
He grew weary and fell asleep, 

And alone you climbed the way. 
Alone, as far as sight of years, 

And touch of helping hand, 
And yet, in spirit, by your side 

He walks from summer land. 

And we believe, though eyes are held, 

That all who come to-day 
Are smiled upon by those called dead 

Who come to grace our way. 
And they, too, know how time has passed, 

And what the days still mean, 
And come to welcome with their cheer, 

Those whom they love again. 

So, Auntie Rode, we say to thee, 

Oh, be not sad of heart ! 
What God hath joined, though men may try, 

Not heaven or earth can part. 
But patient wait ; 'twill not be long 

E'er swing the pearly gates, 
And you will learn, in speech and song, 

The joy of parted mates. 



92 Lake Pleasant. 



LAKE PLEASANT. 

LIKE a pearl amid the highlands 
-/ Lies this beauteous crystal queen, 
Sending back the sunbeams' shadows 
As they steal o'er grassy meadows ; 
Resting sweetly, calm, completely, 
She surveys the wondrous scene. 

On her bosom, happy people 
In their boats glide to and fro. 

Hours pass; with happy faces 

Gliding by the secret places : 

Cosy dells, where fairy bells 
Might have sounded long ago. 

Pretty homes upon its borders 
Speak of love, and speak of rest, 

When the soul can breathe the spirit 

Which is their 's to inherit, 

And we find true enshrined 
When we answer love's behest. 

Oh ! could mortals catch the glimpses 

Of the ones of Summer Land 
Who come back in loving greeting, 
Hand and heart in friendship meeting, 
From that shore ! with love of yore 
They would welcome each loved band. 



Baby is King. 93 

But the slow, old world is waking : 
Long- she's slept so dark and cold, — 

But the heavens which bend above us, 

And the angel ranks who love us, 

Will not rest or stop their quest 
Until all are in one fold. 



BABY IS KING. 

TWO little hands, dimpled and fair, 
Large, dark eyes, and sunny brown hair ; 
Mouth like a rosebud, scarlet and sweet, 
Coaxing each one with kisses to greet ; 
Voice whose tones in the mother-heart sing 
Baby is king, baby is king. 

He brings to our home neither fortune nor gem ; 

Only his love for a sweet diadem ; 
Into the depths of our hearts is his throne; 
Seated with power many kings have not known ; 
But with each faint cry the fact it will bring, 

Baby is king, baby is king. 

King to a crown in the land o'er the river, 
Heir to a throne forever and ever; 
Wielding a scepter mortal hands never grasped, 
Blessing each one with hands angels have clasped. 
When life is past, may in heaven's courts sing, 
Baby is king, baby is king. 



94 Christmas Bells. 



CHRISTMAS BELLS. 

RING out, ye glorious Christmas bells ! 
Peal loud and sweet and clear, 
And let your music, as it swells, 
Proclaim the peace time here ! 
Ring out ! the earth teems rich with gifts, 

Both for the weak and strong, 
And Justice watches as she sifts 
The seeds of right from wrong. 

Ring out ! The banner of the free 

Its colors has unfurled ; 
And the eagle of our liberty, 

Guards close the awakening world. 
Truth battling swift with error's band 

Will surely win the day, 
And stars and stripes float o'er land, 

When freedom leads the way. 

Ring out ! both sweet and sad for those 

Who, doing earth's work well, 
List where the living waters flow, 

To the angel's spirit bell. 
They, too, bring back their gifts to earth 

At merry Christmas time, 
And whisper of that higher birth 

In that fairer, purer clime, 



Christinas Bells. 95 

Ring out ! and bid the man who's blest 

Full rich with earthly store, 
To ope his hand and heart where rests 

The brother at his door. 
He may have naught to guard from cold, 

No hope his heart to cheer; 
You will not miss that sum of gold 

That brings his Christmas near. 

Ring out ! and while you peal, proud bells, 

Oh, let us joyous bring 
Those gifts whose presence ever tells 

Of honor to our King ! 
And let the eyes with pleasure beam, 

Hearts beat with joy again, 
Till all shall catch the radiant gleam 

Of ''peace, good will to men." 

Ring out ! earth's lessons we must learn 

As on we walk each day; 
And Christmas hours with each return 

Mark milestones on the way. 
Oh, may they be the well-tried bands 

That link our hearts above, 
Where in the land of golden sands 

All Christmas time is love ! 



96 The Policeman's Beat. 



THE POLICEMAN'S BEAT. 

ON the beat: 
It matters not the rain or snow, 
It matters not how the cold winds blow, 
It matters not though we rise or fall, 
When duty rings its clarion call 
There is no retreat 
On the beat. 

On the beat 
The paths of sin crowd out the light ; 
We dare not speak what greets our sight ; 
Into the depths of madness and woe, 
Where souls are plunged we, too, must go, 

Dread foes to meet 

On the beat. 

On the beat : 
Oh, the anguish, the sighs and tears ! 
Oh, the remorse for the coming years ! 
The soul of manhood when trampled in dust, 
The shield of honor when covered with rust, 

We cannot defeat 

On the beat. 

On the beat : 
We pledge ourselves loyal to trust, 



The Policeman's Beat. 97 

As brothers stand firm and work for the just; 
We count not the foes crouched close at our side 
In lairs where danger and ruin abide ; 

We walk with ringing feet 

On the beat. 

On the beat : 
Thus we come a brotherhood strong, 
Pledged to a man to crush out the wrong ; 
Marching ahead as our orders shall come, 
Guarding the rights of nation and home, 

We brook no defeat 

On the beat. 

On the beat : 
Duty will win in the golden day ; 
Sin will yield to truth's pure sway ; 
The symbols we use we shall all lay by ; 
The message will come from the Judge on high, 
1 ' I await your feet 

On the beat." 



98 The Queen's Bath. 



THE QUEEN'S BATH. 

IN the woodland, 'mid the pines, 
Steals along a murmuring brook ; 
On its breast the glad sun shines, 

Finding many a secret nook ; 
There we went one perfect day, 

'Mid the ferns and grasses sweet, 
Tracing on its winding way 
That dear brooklet's silver feet. 

Then a little purling rill 

Caught with sweet delight my eyes, 
Where, near by, a rocky nook 

Was filled deep with its supplies. 
I will name this place, dear Edna; 

'Tis a bath fit for a queen ; 
There, within this mystic grotto, 

God has hemmed these waters in. 

So I stood upon the brink ; 

Named the place so sweet and cool, 
Where the sunbeams stop to drink, 

Then float skyward from the pool ; 
Then I told the wood-nymphs there, 

Who the fairies ever see — 
Said it on the summer air 

What the woodland name should be. 



My Mother's Hand. 99 

Days will come, and days will go, 

And some scenes will be forgot, 
Yet will memory thoughtward flow 

To this well remembered spot ; 
And, when with your poet friend, 

Some day you survey the scene, 
Drink for me from purling brook, 

Take a bath for vestal queen. 



MY MOTHER'S HAND. 

WHEN thoughts of my childhood come drift 
ing to me, 
And again in the years of the past I stand, 
The thing that stirs in my memory 

Is the thought of my mother's hand ; 
Perfect in shape, small and white, 
Soft in touch as a flake of light, 
Doing the deeds of kindness and love, 
Now stored with her beautiful life above. 

My mother's hand, with its touch of life, 

Must have been like the angel's hands above ; 
And I never forget, as mother or wife, 

Those dainty hands, made for my love ; 
And now where she dwells far over life's sea, 

In the land of the beauteous sunset glow, 
I think ofttimes she beckons to me 

With those hands as white as the snow. 



ioo Move Forward. 



MOVE FORWARD. 

MOVE Forward ! 
The hour has struck. 
Along the line of march 
There comes the tramping of myriad feet ; 
There comes the rush of many colored banners ; 
There comes the undertone of voices, 
All triumphant, all jubilant, 
Which never brook defeat. 

Move forward ! 
By the martyred dead, 
Who speak, though lips are still ; 
By sorrows borne, when clouds hung low ; 
By hopes once crushed and hearts afaint ; 
By prayers, by tears, that could not move 
The hearts of stone untouched by love, 
With tireless feet we onward go. 

Move forward ! 
Man cannot shut the gate 
Upon the battlefield; 
Beneath God's glorious sun 
The forces all are marshalled ; 
Rank and file are pressing close, 
With face firm set no power will lose ; 
But battling with the truth and right, 
Yield not until the day is won. 



Truth. i o i 

Move forward ! 
You have all to gain ; 
Despair not, faint not ; bands are broke ; 
Send courage all along the line ; 
A thousand glories for you shine ; 
You'll reap where you have sown with tears; 
You'll garner up the scene of years, 
And break for aye the tyrant's yoke. 



TRUTH. 

THERE is a royal highway in this dark world 
of ours: 
It is builded of ivory and gold, 
And illumined by light of such wondrous powers 

Its gleamings have never been told. 
Its pavements are smooth as a still, sleeping sea, 

And bright as the dreams of our youth ; 
Whoever shall wake in that pathway is free, — 
'Tis the royal highway of Truth. 

Oh, grand are its arches ! oh, vast is its power ! 

And its votaries are found in each clime ; 
We rest in its shade in sorrow's dark hour, 

And bless we its mission divine. 
Down deep in the mines, up in the blue dome 

Of the heaven that spans us above, 
Its pathway is tending each day nearer home, 

And ends in all beauty and love. 



io2 Imprints. 



IMPRINTS. 

THE sweetest songs are never heard, 
For angels breathe them low, 
They are like a rift of golden light 

Seen through a bank of snow ; 
They are like the song of some wild bird 

When 'scaped from the fowler's hand, 
Their sweetness ne'er can know earth word, 
They are born in summer land. 

The deepest prayers are born of soul 

That crushes the throb of the heart, 
They rise above life's dark control 

To find their immortal part; 
In the blood of the heart the feet may tread 

On to the promised goal, 
'Twas thus the Master bowed his head 

And entered the home of the soul. 

The dearest love is oft thrown back 

And comes to the giver again, 
But it brings to the sender forth no lack, 

It has added but joy to pain; 
And up through the golden gate to God, 

Where the angels watching be, 
It springs like a flower from out earth's clod, 

And waves in the air so free. 



A Lesson. 103 

So whether we sing, or pray, or love, 

If we give of our fragrance here, 
In pearls of light 'twill be saved above, 

When the earth and sky bend near ; 
So, onward walk with truth each day, 

No matter what bars your road 
You will mount the steps of the perfect way, 

You will rest in the bosom of God. 



A LESSON. 

I AM the Way!" 
Has thy road been hard? 
Have you walked with bleeding feet? 

Have you felt your path press slowly on, 
Where the tide of the rivers meet? 

Then go no more where the brambles tear, 
Turn away from the frowning sea ; 

Take wings and soar in your native air 
And follow the " Way " with me. 

"lam the Truth!" 

Has your heart grown sad 
At the sins of your fellow men? 

" Man's inhumanity " seems more 
Than's told by tongue or pen. 

Then listen not to the tale that's told, 



io4 Easter Lilies. 

It brings no rest from care, 

And follow the "Truth" that is never old, 
By the golden way of prayer. 

"I am the Light!" 

Is your pathway dark? 
Do you grope as one born blind? 

Do mad'ning waves sweep o'er life's bark 
To engulf all human kind? 

Then watch the "Light" that shines from the 
tower, 
And flashes across the sea, 

For "lam the Way, the Truth and the Light, 
Turn, oh soul, and come unto me !" 



EASTER LILIES. 

LILIES, bring pale lilies, beaded with morning 
_-/ dew, 
And eglantine, rosemary sweet, 
Forget-me-nots and golden wheat, 
Bring to the shrine with a heart most true, 
Our risen Lord to greet. 

Praises, sweetest praises ! let from your glad hearts 
ring 
The fervent prayer, the tender word 



Easter Lilies. 105 

From hearts that beat with sweet accord 
To the will of the living King, 

'Tis the homage due our Lord. 

Woe, deep woe, were ours, but for the riven tomb, 
The thorns, the cross, the blood, the pain, 
The robes to wash without a stain, 

To dwell where deathless flowers bloom, — 
For this the Lamb was slain. 

Love, warm love, to him, while we his coming 
greet, 
And grateful hearts, and sweetest peace, 
With earthly yearnings pledged to cease, 

While we kneel at his feet 

And bid our faith increase. 

Lilies, bring pale lilies, pure as mountain snow, 

And hail this Easter morn, 

And tell our Lord is gone 
From out this world of sin and woe 

That we might follow on. 



io6 Decoration Day. 



DECORATION DAY. 

SONS, fathers, brothers, 
The blue and the gray, 
Tenderly woven in memory to-day, 
Forgetting all faults, all wrongs laid aside, 
Blotting out from each heart all anger and pride ; 
Bring blessings of peace for all coming hours 
As we wreathe their low graves with the fragrance 
of flowers. 

Each the beloved, — 
The blue and the gray ; 
All of one Father, though some strayed away, 
Watched with sad hearts, with sighs and with 

tears, 
Crushing out hopes that were cherished with 

years. 
Sweetly they sleep, and over each tomb 
Again the flowers of friendship may bloom. 

Hand clasped to hand, 

The blue and the gray 
Met oft as brothers in midst of the fray; 
Spoke of their homes and those of their love ; 
Hated the breach so cruelly wove; 
Yet each for his thought of home and the right 
Fought to the end and died in the fight. 



The Problems of Life. 107 

Years quickly pass ; 

The blue and the gray- 
Live in the hearts of their own this day; 
And bearing in mind that One from above, 
Whose ''Father, forgive them!" was spoken in 

love, 
We, with true hearts on this national day, 
Crown them our brothers wherever they lay. 



THE PROBLEMS OF LIFE. 

WHAT to gain and what to lose, 
What to shun and what to choose, 
What to love and what to hate, 
What to push and what to wait, 
What to buy and what to sell, 
What to keep and what to tell : 
How these thoughts our minds enthrall ! 
How this question puzzles all ! 

If we could but gauge our power ; 

If we could count nature's dower ; 

If our feelings could be told ; 

If our earnings brought much gold ; 

If the market we could stock ; 

If we could control all talk 

In this world of froth and bubble, 

How we would end all our trouble. 



ic8 Festival Song. 



FESTIVAL SONG. 

FLOWERS, bright flowers, of blossoming June, 
Gorgeous with beauty and rich with perfume ; 
Flowers whose tints speak of rainbow-hued skies ; 
Flowers whose mission of love never dies, 
But touches the heart with a spirit divine, 
Bringing with their wealth to gladden our shrine. 

Violets, bluebells, and snowdrops so meek, 

Sweet Johnny-jump-ups that play hide and seek; 

Pansies, with colors an empress might wear ; 

Roses and lilies bewitchingly fair, 

Tulip and crocus, daisy and fern, 

Bring forth your ofFring, no goddess will spurn. 

Fair, dainty blossoms, how truly you prove, 
He who has formed you to teach of His love ! 
Brightening the field and each wayside nook, 
Hiding in grasses by some laughing brook. 
Deep in the grottoes where fairies might dwell, 
Casting o'er nature your sweet, witching spell. 

Flowers, fair flowers, we bid you come near ! 
No station so humble but your tints might wear ; 
No nature so cold that you cannot warm ; 
No hearts formed to love but yield to thy charm ; 
Come in your beauty and come in your power, 
To add to the joy of this festival hour. 



o 



The Police. 109 



THE POLICE. 

Station 12, Boston, Massachusetts. 
DUTY. 

UT in the early morn on beat, 

Watching the crowds in the busy street, 
Finding the waifs who from home are lost, 
Seeking to save at any cost, 
The world knows not the work you do ; 
So to duty's call you each prove true. 

FIDELITY. 

To your post at the noontide hour, 
Your record give to the chief in power. 
Getting the calls the telephones bring 
Of runaway teams, or anything 
That breaks the law, which all must keep 
While the world's awake or while asleep. 

REST. 

Into the pleasant station come 
When your detail work at length is done. 
Throwing away the cares of the day, 
A cigar you smoke or checkers play. 
Seeing just how this thing you do, 
This rhyme from the west I send to you. 



Golden Wedding Bells. 



GOLDEN WEDDING BELLS. 

Joseph and Mary Hayward. 

FIFTY golden bells ring out this bridal morn; 
Fifty golden milestones upon the way 
you've gone; 
Looking back o'er all the years, flushed with light 

and shade, 
At the hopes, the joys, the fears, in time's archives 

laid. 
How the stone at memory's door rolls itself away, 
Bringing in the present with its grander day ! 

Many are the lessons sent with the golden years ; 
Bravely have you met them, with more smiles than 

tears ; 
Softly have your voices sung hymns of peace and 

cheer; 
Many have the blessings been, with each passing 

year, 
You have met upon the road, till this golden time — 
Wooden, tin, and china, blent with the silver 

chime. 

I, with friends, would greet thee on this happy day; 
So I breathe a blessing which with you e'er may 

stay, 
As I, too, have felt the clasp of each loving hand, 



Golden Wedding Bells. in 

And been welcomed in your home by its loving 

band; 
So one golden thought I send by these friends so 

dear, 
That time may bring your bark along to the 

diamond year. 

They tell me, bridegroom, that you won a tiny 

maiden fair; 
One scarcely could believe the truth to see her 

standing there ; 
But goods, though small and precious and comely 

to our eyes, 
Oft swell by one's possession to very goodly size ; 
And so how blessed you must be to have securely 

bound 
So much of wedded bliss you scarce can clasp it 

round. 

Along your path the trials came, and visions nobly 

planned 
Were seeming marred by accident while passing 

through the land; 
But question not ; it may be well we can but dimly 

see 
The many roads we each must go to reach eternity. 
In patience it has had its way to bring a blessing 

sweet, 
And lay it with its burden close to the Master's 

feet. 



ii2 Golden Wedding Bells. 

Along with seven, all thine own, thou'st lent a 
helping hand, 

And planted other hearth-stones and feel another 
band; 

And as one ever reaps the fruit somewhere that he 
did sow, 

Those deeds of thine are held above while mir- 
rored here below. 

So will you see your work well done when falls the 
night shade down, 

And laying by earth's crosses thou dost receive 
the crown. 

Could you with spirit eyes see those who round 
you stand, 

You will not find one missing from out the house- 
hold band. 

The son, who summoned forth so soon to house- 
hold of the King, 

Comes back to earth to greet you, and Allie with 
him brings, 

And treasures from the kingdom, its fruits, its 
buds, its flowers, 

They scatter all around you to bless these happy 
hours. 

So gently, sweetly chime, O golden wedding bells ! 
And on those gathered here, O cast your witching 
spells ! 



A a- os tic. 113 

May hope, with golden finger, point all along the 

way 
Where thou, when earth is ended, may see a 

brighter day; 
Where gather all the golden years, where loved 

ones part no more, 
O may yon meet and live and love forever on that 

shore ! 



ACROSTIC. 



H 



ARK to the voice of the year that has 
gone ! 



Awake to the truths that you love the best ! 
Pealing along in the aisles of time, 
Pointing to heights to reach sublime, 
Ye that strive shall find true rest. 

Now the bells chime fast and sweet, 
Every thought with gladness fills, 
Welcome the love that each heart thrills. 

Youth and age, with glad accord, 
Enter the temple with joy, not fear; 
And may our hearts each speak this word : 
Riches shall come with the glad New Year 



ii4 The Eightieth Birtliday. 



THE EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY. 

LONG, long ago, the spirit bells 
^ Rang out on earth a child is born, 
And eyes of love looked in thine own 
And welcomed you into your home, 
Where you, with sweetness and content, 

Grew daily into care and love, 
And drew from both a prayer of trust 
And hope, to Him who rules above. 

Among the mountains, high and grand, 

Amid sweet farm scenes long gone by, 
When summer's flush and sunset rare 

Tinged all the earth and sky; 
Where Mirror Lake threw shadows deep, 

And rocked the ripples on its breast, — 
Amid such scenes of peace and joy 

You dwelt with those who loved you best. 

Your life has held its clouds of woe ; 

Has drained to dregs the bitter cup; 
Has watched its choicest plans let go, 

Although 'twas hard to give them up. 
But with sweet trust in God above, 

You patient took just what he sent; 
And while you wiped the tears away, 

A glory o'er life's path was lent. 



The Eightieth Birthday. 115 

And now to-day we greet you here 

With words of comfort, words of love ; 
And she who sweetly keeps your way, 

Though almost home your footsteps rove, 
Will read, when gazing in their eyes, 

A lesson which we each may learn, — 
While we dwell here beneath the skies, 

We take home only what we earn. 

We hope the years that still may come 

Will touch you lightly as a thought, 
And every mission of your life, 

Shall be with wondrous beauty fraught ; 
That down the sunset to the glow, 

Sweet rays shall touch your striving feet, 
And you at last, with those now gone, 

Will enter love's own sweet retreat. 



n6 Genevra. 



GENEVRA. 



A LITTLE girl with earnest ways, 
Has pleaded strong for many days 
For me to write a story. 
Something to save just for her own, 
That she may read when older grown, 
And I am gray and hoary. 

Well, bright brown eyes, you live in clover 
Of early June, when bright thoughts hover, 

And mirth trips gay along; 
When life is like a fairy dream, 
And things, no doubt, not what they seem, 

Though full of joy and song. 

Far up the heights your feet must climb ; 
You'll reach them not in sweet springtime, 

But bravely toil along. 
Faint not, though clouds may hide the way, 
Do something good, as comes each day, 

To all of life's great throng. 

Be just, be true to rich or poor; 
Speak kind to all that pass your door, 

'Twill bring you rich reward. 
Be true to brother in his need, 
A sister's hand he sure will heed — 

Man's truest gift from God. 



Fancy. 1 1 7 

And when, brown eyes, you sometimes think 
Of what is past, as on the brink 

Of girlhood you may stand, 
Just think of me, and days of fun ; 
I'll wish for you good luck to come 

In this or any land. 



FANCY. 

ONE day amid the roses Love sweetly fell 
asleep ; 
When straying there for posies, a Fairy chanced 

to peep, 
And saw his hair so golden, his eyes like violets 

blue, 
His cheeks so like pale lilies, his mouth of rosy 
hue. 



And bending just above him her graceful, droop- 
ing head, 

Before a thought could stir him, just touched his 
mouth rose-red, 

Then Love, who felt the vision, both peepers 
opened wide, 

And said, "Oh, sweet Elysium, thy gates are at 
my side! " 



1 1 8 Fancy. 

Then catching up a bluebell he held it to her 

chin, 
And said, ' ' There must be honey, I saw a bee 

creep in; 
If you will only take it within your dimpled hands 
Perhaps 'twill bring a vision of the Elf King's 

fairy lands." 

The darling caught the flower, then softly closed 

her eyes ; 
When ope, the rogue had vanished, and filled her 

with surprise, 
Left in her heart a flutter, just like a snow white 

dove, 
And she was heard to utter, ' ' That surely must 

be Love." 



The Grinder's Plaint. 119 



THE GRINDER'S PLAINT. 

INTO the damp and noisome mist 
I grind, and grind, and grind, 
While a bony hand I cannot resist 

Doth wind, and wind, and wind, 
Around my heart a chain of lead, 
Around my brain a weary pain ; 
My breath must be the breath of death, 
As I forge my links in the chain. 

Out of the sunshine of God's world, 

I grind, and grind, and grind, 
To gain the needs of daily bread, 

That feed all human kind ; 
Wealth cannot pay for the life-blood lost, 

Bread must be had at any cost ; 
Wife and babes by the gold king tossed, 

I grind, and grind, and grind. 

But the mills of the gods have begun to turn, 

They grind, and grind, and grind, 
And fine the grist on the wheels will burn 

Of those who enslave mankind; 
For God, the grinder, turns every wheel, 

And he knows what his work must be, 
And never a wheel will cease to turn 

Till the man he has made is free. 



To Thomas Jackson. 



TO THOMAvS JACKSON. 

STANDING backward in the shadow 
Of the days now past and gone, 
Still I see your face revealing 
Moods of varied thought and feeling 
As your mind is played upon. 

Shakespeare, with his brilliant sonnets, 

Snatch of drama, pearls of rhyme, 
Now stands forth in all his splendor, 
Sometimes sad, and sometimes tender, 
In your efforts most sublime. 

Strange that one in years long vanished, 
Should so strongly make a place ; 

Biit as in my youth I met you, 

So again I hope to greet you, 
With the same smile on your face. 

And your wife and loving children, 
Whom you bade a long farewell, 
You will meet with joy and gladness 
Where there dwells no sin or sadness, 
When swings clear their spirit bell. 



The Indian Maid's Song. 121 



THE INDIAN MAID'S SONG. 

OH ! I come from the land of wood and glade ; 
I come from the nooks of light and shade 
Where the white man may not go ; 
And I list the swish of the soft, lush grass, 
And I flit with the fireflies as they pass, 
When the shades of night swing low. 

I speed with the wind in my light canoe, 
And I tread with the deer the forest through, 

And I list for my warrior's call ; 
My wampum belt, and the blankets bright, 
My moccasins treading the pathway light, 

He will see and smile at all. 

Oh ! the pale, white squaw may look with scorn 
On one from the red man's wigwam born ; 

But the great Manitou above, — 
He loves alike each squaw and brave, 
He would have them free as the ocean wave, 

And dwell in his mighty love. 

So, wild and free as a bird of air, 
I wander on in the world so fair, 

Not a thought of care or grief. 
When the arrows turn to the sinking sun 
I shall know my life on earth is done, 

And fall as a passing leaf. 



i22 Simeon, Bard of Souegan, 



SIMEON, BARD OF SOUEGAN. 

OH ! child of dreamy October, 
When the haze swings low o'er the hills; 
When the golden-rod waves in its beauty, 

And the sumach burns red near the rills ; 
When the chestnuts are ripe for the squirrels, 

And the days are full of life's wine, 
I shall turn to my memory pictures 
And tint them with glory divine. 

Thou speak'st of meadow and woodland; 

Thou bring'st to all nature's song, 
For thou, who since childhood did woo her, 

Has met her invisible throng. 
Thou hast called to the breezes and zephyrs ; 

Thou hast laughed with her purling streams, 
And when your axe swings in the forest 

Your soul blends strength with your dreams. 

Oh, poet, not here shall thy dreaming 

Its greatest mystery see ! 
Not here can God's glories beaming 

Be given to you and to me. 
But if in the days that are given, 

We leave no duty undone, 
We shall rise to the portals of heaven, 

Find rest in the land of the sun. 



MYSTIC POEMS. 



I sing of themes beyond the light, 
But not beyond the law ; 

Who so doth read with spirit sight 
Will find no blot or flaw." 



THOUGHT. 

I AM the sun, the moon, the star, 
The downy cheek of peach, or plum ; 
I am the clouds that float afar, 

The cricket's song, the bee's low hum ; 
I am the hero and the rogue, 

I am the slave and crowned king; 
I am the plain, the wooded grove, 
I am the song the wild birds sing. 

I am the music in the lute, 

I am the silver of the stars, 
I am the din of ocean roar, 

I am the tint of rainbow's bars ; 
I bow unto the will of men 

Where'er they call in court or cave ; 
I crown man king, and perchance then 

I turn his jewels to the knave. 

I dwell in God, who brought me forth 

To wake to birth the sleeping world ; 
Whose " Let there be ! " in peerless worth 

To bursting beauty all unfurled. 
You know the secret now I tell, 

So make of me just what you will, 
Let life be like a chiming bell, 

And list the Father's "Peace, be still ! " 



126 Spirit Song. 



SPIRIT SONG. 

WE come, we come, an angel band ! 
We come, we come, from the summer 
land! 
We come with joy to greet yon, come with good 

cheer to meet you, 
Then ope your doors, bid us come in, 

We'll chase out doubt and care, 

And to sad hearts a message bring, 

From the realms of upper air ! 

Then away, away, with repining ! 
The beautiful sun is still shining, 

And the God of the past to-day is the same, 
Though the shadows drop low around you ; 
Love has broke the fetters that bound you, 

And he will baptize with spirit and flame. 

Then, one and all, we say to thee, 
If your souls you'd call forever free, 

Open and let in the light, 
And God, who dwells in every heart, 
And is of each and all a part, 

Will make your pathway bright. 



The Morning Star. 127 



THE MORNING STAR. 

ALREADY upon the hilltops 
. Flash the gold and silver rays, 
Symboling through the darkness 

The light of the former days. 
Already the cross of sorrow 

Claims its heroes, who would rise 
Through the darkness of the tomb 
To the kingdom of the skies. 

Oh, earth ! Oh, patient mother, 

How long thy children weep ! 
Fain, fain, would'st thou give comfort, 

And croon them back to sleep. 
But the children are so restless 

They will not listen now, 
They have heard the Father calling 

Upon the mountain's brow. 

vSo flash, oh morning star ! 

The child again is born, 
Across its path the wise men 

With royal gifts will come. 
Herod no more can slay him, 

His kingdom soon will rise, 
And " Peace, good will to earth! " 

Will greet us from the skies. 



128 The Temple Guard. 



THE TEMPLE GUARD. 

THE gates of the temple were guarded 
With a sword of flaming fire, 
And the angel who held replied not 
To pleadings of thought or desire ; 
But with face of heavenly beauty, 

Kept ever his charge in sight, 
Which the Father of Love had bade him 
Guard for his palace of light. 

The months and the years came and faded, 

Forms and faces, many and grand, 
Came before the gates of the temple, 

But patient the angel did stand, 
Never swerving one inch from his duty, 

Heeding not the voices that came, 
But wheeling around and about him 

His sword of fire and flame. 

Years fled ; when lo ! at the temple 
Came One by the Father above 

Sent with this message of greeting : 

' ' I come with the key of pure love ; 

To the treasures so long you have guarded 
My truest allegiance I bring; 

They are mine; I come thus to claim them 
At the bidding of my Lord and King. " 



The Temple Guard. 129 

Deep in the soul of the pleader 

The angel bent his pure eyes, 
Then answered : ' ' You bear with your message 

The signet and seal of the skies; 
By the crescent that bendeth above you 

This trust that to you has been given, 
When you have once entered its portals 

Sweet glimpses 'twill bring you of heaven. 

Shadow and sunshine will meet you, 

Life's trials will go at your side, 
But the memory and dreams of the temple 

Will evermore with you abide. 
And then when the veil of the flesh 

Has been rent and the soul passes through, 
You will learn in the life that's unending 

What the Father has bidden you do." 



130 Spiritual Science. 



SPIRITUAL SCIENCE. 

WHY do we question the future? 
Why do we ask of its truth? 
Why do we seek with the zest of life, 

For the fount of immortal youth? 
Why do we search in the silence, 

Aye, grope sometimes as though blind, 
Reaching to find if it may be 
The illimitable path of the mind? 

Down through the sweep of the ages, 

Ever and ever the same, 
The spirit has worked out its mission 

Through air and water and flame; 
Worked, as the Master has bidden, 

Worked, though the flesh knew it not, 
Ever to fashion a temple 

Peerless of blemish or spot. 

You in whose presence I'm standing 

Felt yet a power unseen, 
Are building your life-forces grandly 

Without rivet or cutting or seam ; 
One in solid completeness, 

One in God's purpose of love, 
Held in ties heaven-welded 

For thy mission above. 



Spiritual Science. 131 

Side by side since the day-dawn, 

In joy, in sorrow, in peace, 
Patient has stood each life angel 

Thy powers of soul to increase ; 
vShielded from error and darkness, 

Guided by truth into light, — 
Into the clearness of sunshine, 

From the flesh that causeth earth's night. 

Not to the ear or the eyesight 

Can visions of truth be revealed, 
They are hidden in truest conception, 

While the spirit in clay is concealed. 
Yet glimpses are given each mortal, 

When soul claims a moment its own, 
The divine then breathes in the human 

The forces which compass his throne. 

So we bid you, each brother and sister, 

List to pleadings divine: 
Fill up each vase of pure crystal 

To the brim, of life's rarest wine. 
Love, and love only, can find it, 

Cause it to flow and ne'er cease, 
Bringing to souls weary laden 

The sweetest blessings of peace. 

No envy, no hatred, no malice, 

Must e'er claim a place in thy heart. 

Couldst thou see the path of their working, 
In terror and anguish would start ; 



132 Reincarnation. 

For each, with a scorpion's sting, 
Strikes into life's innermost cell, 

Drops its seed of sin and of poison 
With dangers you cannot foretell. 

But within and about and around you, 

As God sends the beams of his sun, 
So do thou shed the rays of thy presence 

Till thy mission on earth here is done. 
Then on to the mansion supernal 

That awaits each one up above, 
Yes, on to the life that's eternal, 

To dwell supreme in God's love. 



REINCARNATION. 

I SAT at the close of a sweet June day, 
When the sunset was flushed with gold, 
And I watched the stars come out in the sky 

Their silvery light to unfold ; 
And I questioned the future, the present, the past, 

Of my being so grand and fair, 
And I sought to know the voice of truth 
Which awaited me everywhere. 

Child, in the ages long ago, 

When the stars their anthems sung, 

When the glories God had prepared for all 
Were breathed first by mortal tongue ; 



Reincarnation. 133 

You wove a web with the shuttle Time, 

And fashioned a home for the soul, 
And you lived the part God gave you to do 

Until angels your work did unroll. 

Then back to the mansions, grand and fair, 

You passed for your time of rest, 
And you learned the love of the upper air, 

And answered your spirit's bequest; 
Until again did the Master grand 

Place the shuttle once more in your hand, 
And gave you the tangled ends to weave 

And bring back to spirit band. 

And so, as the morn, the noon, and the eve, 

Are the gems which symbol the day, 
So to each soul these lessons of worth 

Once learned will ne'er pass away; 
On in thy flight to the furthermost star, 

When your missions to earth are done, 
On to the bosom of God the good, 

To dwell in the heart of the sun. 



134 A b Intra. 



AB INTRA. 

FLASHING down on mount and river, 
Shedding rays of light afar, 
Tinging all things with its brightness, 
Causing hearts to beat with lightness, 
Shines the nineteenth century star. 

How the sad old earth is groaning 

At each wayward, erring child, 
Who has turned against his brother, 
Who his lamp of life would smother, 
Leaving him in darkness wild ! 

But we bring the lore of sages 
From the archives of the past, 

Thousands glean truth from its pages, 

Breathe again the life of ages, 
With its mystic teachings cast. 

Then we open wide the portal 

Where the light has never shone, 
Rays we catch from the immortal 
Myriad-colored, grand and awful, 

Clothed with love from heaven's zone. 

So we bid you watch, my brother; 
Dawn has broke across the hills; 



Esoteric. 135 

Though the enemy may fight us, 
Never can his power affright us, 
Grinds no more the God his mills. 

But with love and peace undying 

We will work with heart and hand, 
Never swerving, never turning, 
Day by day grand entrance earning, 
To the beautious spirit land. 



ESOTERIC. 

THE bee finds its food in the honey-cell, 
The shell holds the moan of the sea, 
The crushed rose sends its fragrance forth, 

In sweetness o'er meadow and lea; 
The darkened warp shows the woof of gold 

The storm-clouds brighten the sun, 
And angels smile through temples grand 
When victories great are won. 

The " Kingdom of Heaven" is found within, 

The spirit no eye can behold, 
The " steps " are hidden away from sin 

That lead to the palace of gold. 
The earnest heart finds the narrow path 

Where no sad feet can roam, 
And the " gate " so straight leads thro' the dark 

To the grandeur and peace of home. 



136 Inspiration. 



INSPIRATION. 

INTO your life like the words of a song 
Like the notes of a bird, 
Like the voice of the rill, 
Like a swift ray of light whose glory is strong, 

Which beams o'er the valley and hill, — 
So with a power you cannot foretell 
I've cast o'er thee love's potent spell, 
Binding forever, on land or on sea, 
The love of your soul with God unto me. 

Look to the east ; see the flush of the dawn, 
Pink and gold and silver-like beams, 
Casting o'er you a gladness unknown, 
Bringing you hidden gems all your own, 
Which the toil of years unfolds now to thee. 
Up from the mists of the past now unrolls 
Glory of glory to dwell in our souls; 
Bidding us march to the rhythm of years, 
Casting behind all sorrows and fears; 
Pointing us up with a finger of fire, 
Bearing these words: " I bid you come higher." 

Do you see what it means, the depths you have 

trod, 
When your heart must be given to man through 

our God? 



Inspiration. 137 

When in anguish of tears, 

And sorrow of soul, 
Your feet crushed and bleeding- 
Must press to the goal? 
As the Master has trod, so you has he led, 
In paths sometimes dark, then with glory o'er- 

spread, 
Until now in fulfillment of all that is best, 
You have entered the land of promise and rest. 

Cast anchor, the storms shall trouble no more ; 
A glory ne'er seen on sea or on shore, 
With purple of amethyst, 

Glimmer of gold, 
With radiance of sapphire, 
Whose effulgence untold 
Enwraps and enfolds you in billows of bliss, 
That shall surge in your soul as love's fondest kiss, 
That shall teach you the truth ; 
You have gained port at last, 
And close to God's throne 
Your lifeboat made fast. 



138 Recognition. 



RECOGNITION. 

WHERE was it that we met? 
In the dim remembered past, 
You stood with me at sundown, 
Your arms around me clasped, 
A kiss you pressed upon my lips 
And sighing, said, ' ' Farewell ; 
Some day on earth we'll meet again, 
But when I cannot tell." 

Around, above, on earth and sky, 

There spread a silvery light ; 
Faint sounds of bells came on the air ; 

Sweet flowers met our sight; 
A breath of God our spirits calmed, 

And though we then must part, 
A sweetness stole, not born of earth, 

Into each saddened heart. 

And thus again we meet 

In the cycle now at hand ; 
Eyes gaze in eyes, and heart greets heart 

As in that spirit land. 
And thus the threads of life 

In spirit we shall weave, 
Invisible to mortal eyes 

Until this sphere we leave. 



An AngeVs Kiss. 139 

Again we two shall stand 

As in the stranded past, 
Our lifework done, the last round climbed, 

The " welcome home " at last. 
And as our souls bound to our God 

And near the eternal throne, 
We'll gather in the " tide of years " 

The seeds which here we've sown. 



AN ANGEL'S KISS. 

SHE came to me in the moonlit hours, 
But her wings were tipped with the sun, 
Her eyes shone bright as the light of the stars, 

Her speech and her beauty were one. 
No eyes save mine saw the vision fair, 

No soul save mine felt the bliss 
When, throwing back the waves of her hair, 
She pressed on my forehead a kiss. 

It came like a falling leaf from a rose, 

It came as a sob or a sigh ; 
But I knew, as I held the bright one close, 

No hidden sorrow was nigh. 
One moment she felt my beating heart, 

One moment she read from my eyes, 
Then tearing my clasping arms apart 

She fled to her home in the skies. 



140 The Ancient Order Essenes. 



THE ANCIENT ORDER ESSENES. 

ALL hail, Senate Supreme, and knights of 
. ancient days, 
Whose flashing star of promise proclaimed the 
coming dawn ! 
All hail to orders met to mingle different rays, 
And with our earnest words to speed the victors 
on! 
All hail to Star and Crescent, the East and West- 
ern shore, 
That with the sword and trowel, emblem in 
every land, 
Speak peace and sure protection to every brother's 
door, 
And binds in ties unbroken each ancient group 
and band ! 

The North and South shall mingle, the East and 
West bring cheer, 
As speed the fleeting hours whose memories only 
last, 
And each shall bring the tidings of all the busy 
year, 
And gather in the storehouse the gleanings of 
the past. 
We greet you all as brothers in name of Him of old, 
Who stood the man symbolic of all that men 
may be, 



The Ancient Order of Esscnes. 141 

And pledged to God and honor down from the 
ages old 
The truth of mankind's mission that He the 
earth might free. 

Oh, knights of ancient order, again the brother 
comes ! 
Again across the heavens is seen the coming 
star, 
Again with sword and watchword you must pro- 
tect your homes, 
Again watch for the crescent which shineth 
from afar. 
The angel ranks bend o'er us and loving greeting 
send, 
Proclaiming time is near when war shall surely 
cease, 
When man to man shall turn, and friend shall 
know his friend, 
And on the earth shall come the promised reign 
of peace. 

So speed the hours on with music and with 
song; 
Be happy as the day, and clasp some waiting 
hand; 
Let nothing mar the scene, but let the meeting 
prove 
That friendship pure and sweet unites each lov- 
ing band. 



142 Lillian to Edna, 

The past has gone to rest, its records still remain, 
And may yon each possess of what you claim 
your own, 
Then onward through the ranks, without one spot 
or stain, 
Until you reach the hour that calls you to the 
throne. 



LILLIAN TO EDNA. 

I LOVE you! 
As I read these words 
The rush of silver wings 
Within my bosom deep was stirred, 
And sense of hidden things, 
Revealed in tints of violet, 
In ray of silver star, 
And perfume of the lily's heart 
From golden worlds afar. 

"I love you!" 
Words so sweetly strung 
On the rosary of life 
That one counts o'er and o'er the beads, 
And touching gently each 
Responds in gentle undertone 
The joy- world to her heart made known, 
He loves me, loves me, loves me," 
Breathes through the prisoned speech. 



Heliobas Casamir. 143 



HELIOBAS CASAMIR. 

KING, priest, and lover, hail to thee, 
Who having never seen we love, 
Whose work of Christ-like ministry, 
Thy royal priesthood fully prove ; 
We bless thee for thy life so true, 

We love thee for the words thou spake, 
And most, because 'twas sought by you 
To do the work for His dear sake. 

Mankind may doubt, may treat with scorn, 

And call you "myth," and say untrue 
Are deeds that you most nobly won, 

And hold their meed of praise from view 
But out upon the summer air 

Your glorious presence flashed to me 
In answer to my earnest prayer 

That I your radiant face might see. 

Heliobas, all hail ! I bow to thee, 

Thou glorious concept of our God, 
Thy words still speak to make men free, 

To cheer the faint and crush the proud ; 
Oh, lend to earth electric fire 

That ever on love's altar burn, 
And teach mankind each pure desire 

His prayer alone can truly earn ! 



i44 The Spirit Guide. 



THE SPIRIT GUIDE. 

ABSENT, but not forgot, forever by my side, 
I see thy shadowy form that comes my feet 
to guide, 
That bids me pluck life's roses that grow so rich 

and rare, 
The thornless flowers of truth born of the upper 
air, 

And wear for thee. 

Thy footfalls make no noise as by me you gently 
pass, 

Thy breath would never cloud the fairest, bright- 
est glass, 

Thy shadow has no weight to turn the finest scale, 

Thy voice lacks vocal sound as thy bright words 
regale 

My listening ear. 

But still in every thought I feel thy power of 

mind; 
Thy soul sways mine at will so close the ties that 

bind; 
If sad at heart art thou the world to me seems 

drear, 
Should smiles light up thy brow, God's sunlight is 

so clear 

On all the earth ! 



Affinity. 145 

Absent, but ever near me, oh blessed be His name 
Whose bright baptism of souls is born of spirit flame ! 
Who sends his angel ranks down from the sum- 
mer land 
To help us bear life's woes, to give a helping hand 
Whene'er we call. 



AFFINITY. 

AS the perfume of the roses, 
l As the seashell's faintest moan, 
So the law the soul discloses, 
Each life will attract its own. 

Pure and sweet will be soul-rapture, 
Though the bodies sundered be, 

If the currents flow within them 
On to immortality. 

Eyes will flash in mystic brightness, 
Soft the spirit kiss will fall, 

Until all the spirit's lightness 
Shall have permeated all. 

But the masses in the shade-lands 
Do not see to steer life's bark, 

But drift backward to the sands 
Where they sink in waters dark. 



146 Affinity. 

But the day is swiftly dawning, 
Speeding from the starry skies, 

When upon the tints of morning 
Visions from the sun arise. 

For as he does touch our mother, 
From the womb of leafy mold 

Quick there springeth into being 
Passion-buds a hundred-fold. 

Pansies, lilies, pinks and roses, 
Fruits of every taste and hue, 

From her bosom she discloses, 
Showing him what she can do. 

Oh, the worship of earth-mother! 

Oh, how lavish of her yield ! 
From the seacoast to the mountain, 

O'er the valley, hill and field! 

Sweet she bears her floral treasures; 

He, most lavish of his gold, 
Sends his blessings without measure, 

For her heart to seek and hold. 

So the children feel pulsation 

From her living, throbbing heart, 

And the ones in sweet vibration, 
Feel the quickened impulse start. 



Affinity. 147 

And as stars, by God's vast motion, 
Touch each mate in heaven's blue sea, 

So may souls in deep devotion 

To the truth which makes men free. 

Flesh is naught! " so said the Master, 
" Spirit is what quickeneth thee, 
Would you travel skyward faster, 
Find the life that's hid in me ! 

I am life ; in me is fullness ; 

I am truth, seek me the vine ; 
I'm the way, in all thy illness 

Let thy love round me entwine." 



148 Love's Bells. 



LOVE'S BELLS. 

1IST to Love's chiming bells, 
-/ How they swell o'er life's sea. 
Speaking to mountains and dells, 

Speaking to river and lea. 
Gleaming in diamond of dew-drop, 
Glancing from butterfly's wing, 
And then away on the sunbeam 
Hear Love's chiming bells ring. 

I dance in the sunbeam, 

Revel in the flowers, 
I am in the gleaming 

Of the star-light hours ; 
Where the mermaids wander 

In my grottoes fair, 
Building up the coral caves, 

I am ringing there. 

Deep within the bosom 

Of our mother earth, 
Where the gold and silver 

Have their mystic birth, 
There the bells are ringing 

Mortals may not hear, 
But the sea nymphs' singing 

Greet the spirit ear. 



Love's Bells. 149 

Sweetest chimes are ringing 

In Love's winsome eyes, 
And they, faintly bringing, 

Echo in soft sighs. 
In the power of manhood, 

In the true and good, 
There Love's chiming bells 

Are heard and understood. 

Whoso puts them from him 

I turn into stone; 
For I earthward came 

From the Father's throne. 
But earth stopped my chiming 

In the long-ago; 
Set my bells to timing 

Death and sin and woe. 

But in earthly raiment 

An angel starward came. 
Touched the jangling chords, 

Bathed them in Love's flame. 
Then sprung forth soul-music, 

Peal on peal, so strong 
It was echoed backward 

By the angel throng. 

So Love's bells, now chiming, 

Nevermore will cease 
Till they bring the rhyming 

Of the days of peace ; 



150 Possession. 

When in every heart 

Love's sweet, glad refrain, 

Ne'er from them depart, — 
Eden come again. 



POSSESSION. 

I HAD a rose: 
'Twas full and fair to see. 
Its fragrance filled the summer air ; 
Whoever breathed its golden bloom 
For sorrow there was then no room, 

And all the world seemed then more fair. 

I had a rose : 
So many wished to taste its breath, 

Just watch its petals fair unfold, 
Look deep within its tender heart, 

Its chalice of pure gold ! 
How could I thus the flower refuse, 
When for all good 'twas given to use? 

And so, as one by one they came, 

And said, ' ' How sweet what you possess ! 

It touches like a soft caress ; 

It brings me dreams of happiness; 

I know 'twould check my tears and sighs! " 

Then looked for answer in my eyes. 



Prophecy. 151 

I listened, gave not up my rose, 

But let its beauty greet each heart ; 
None wished save those who knew its worth, 
And knew it came from higher birth 

Its secret to impart. 
And so I gathered as I gave, 

And brought within my spirit quest 
Of perfume all my heart could crave, 

Pure love, and found my promised rest. 



PROPHECY. 

LISTEN ! Do you hear the life-beats 
-/ Deep within the souls of men? 
Listen ! Do you hear the echoes 

Of the tyrant's requiem? 
Though the cause scarce no one traces 

To the voices in the air, 
See the white of pallid faces ! 
Catch the glow upon the air ! 

Watch the seething caldron bubble, 

Hear the rumble from afar, 
Powerless man to stay the trouble, 

Powerless to bring peace for war. 
Russian bears, hoarse with growling, 

Teeth and claws will soon be shown ; 
Aye, the coming doom now prowling 

May upset each long-kept throne. 



Prophecy. 

Greed and rapine, rage and hunger, 

On the man of masses feed, 
And the tiger power within them 

Kills the soul of higher creed. 
Bread for children, bread for children, 

Cursed be your cankered gold! " 
You who walk clothed in soft raiment 

Should your brothers' need enfold. 

But the tyrant, never heeding, 

Onward walks with iron heel ; 
Vain indeed a brother's pleading, 

To the heart now turned to steel. 
And the voices still are falling 

That must ring its own dark doom, 
Till the voice of Christ-love calling 

Frees man from his gold-barred tomb. 



MEMORY BELLS TO 
THE ARISEN. 



There is no death; the stars go down 
To rise upon a fairer shore, 

And bright in heaven's jeweled crown 
They shine forever more." 



MEMORY BELLS. 

OH, memory bells, sweet memory bells! 
What mystic tales your music tells 
Of hearth and home, of friends now gone, 
Of dreams that faded one by one, 
Of hopes, of loves, of fears, there dwells 
But thy sad chimes, sweet memory bells ! 

Oh, memory bells, sweet memory bells! 

Thou bringest again soft childhood spells, 

The scenes so fair, the sky so blue, 

The flowers of friendship so bright and true ; 

Of sin and wrong, no warning tells 

As those swing clear, sweet memory bells. 

Oh, memory bells, sweet memory bells ! 
Thy echoes ring through nooks and dells 
Where fairies dance down through the glade, 
And woodland elves beneath the shade 
Speed light and free, 'mid brakes and fells, 
Till midnight's hour, sweet memory bells. 

Oh, memory bells, sweet memory bells ! 
Some day for each sad funeral knells 
Will bring the fond, the last good-bye 
Of all that's mortal 'neath the sky, 
And time and tide shall cast no spells 
O'er heart and hand, sweet memory bells. 



156 Grandma Dimmick. 

Oh memory bells, sweet memory bells, 
Beyond life's sea thy music swells. 
We hear the rush of angel wings, 
We list where choral anthem sings; 
Adown the heights we breathe farewells, 
While thou peal on, sweet memory bells ! 



GRANDMA DIMMICK. 

OH ! many a year has passed with its cares, 
Since thy mother awoke to the light, 
And changed is the drift of human affairs ; 
The garb of the past the present ne'er wears, 
As day robes befit not the night. 

The child-time of life was passed in her day 

Far different from thy childhood hours ; 
There was much time to work, but little to play, 
Life's lessons of gold must not turn to gray 
Ere the dew was gone from earth's flowers. 

But patiently using the shuttle of time, 
She wove as her heart-promptings taught ; 

Her prose was life's shadows, her sunlight life's 
rhyme, 

But blending as sweet as bells merry chime, — 
Her pattern will ne'er be forgot. 



Grandma Dimmick. 



i57 



The hopes she has built none but God ever knew, 

•He reads every thought of the soul; 
But to her, as to all, there must have been woe, 
Perchance seed was sown she feared ne'er would 
grow, 
For the quickening she might not control. 

Her temple was marked with the rust of the years; 

Not so the bright spirit within ; 
When it crumbled and fell you watered with tears, 
The angels clasped mother away from the fears 

Of earth and away from its sin. 

United again in the family band, 

Whose links ne'er from earth can be riven, 
Father, mother, and friends, in the far better land, 
Await love of your heart and touch of your hand 
To make still dearer your heaven. 

Then weep not because her form is laid low, 

Beneath the sweet grasses and flowers ; 
When the angel of death shall thus bid you go, 
Then you, too, will learn what God doth bestow 
As reward for life's weary hours. 



158 Our Dannie. 



OUR DANNIE. 

CALLED back, his mission ended, 
The brave little heart at rest ; 
The busy baby fingers 

Fold softly o'er his breast; 
The brown eyes, dark and loving, 

Sleep 'neath the lids snow-white; 
The childish, restless feet have strayed 
Through the gates of light. 

Called back at Christmas time, 

When the hearts of the sons of men 
Grow soft, as the infant Jesus 

Is born on the earth again, 
When the chorus of the angels 

Ring sweet on the wintry air, 
And " Peace, good will to men ! " 

Is brooding everywhere. 

Called back to the Father's house, 

Who gave and took again 
Ere on the pure young brow 

One sin had left its stain. 
Oh, Dannie, our angel boy, 

Let your spirit be our guide ! 
On, on, to the gates of day, 

When we'll gather at thy side. 



Brother Steve. 159 



BROTHER STEVE. 

ONE more home ! 
The youngest child of all, 
Who from the Father's house 
Strayed down to earth; 
And though life's shadows 
Only half way up the hill had crept, 
He grew so ill and weary 
And laid him down and slept. 

One more home ! 
Back to the Father's house, 
To meet a mother's loving glance, 
A father's tender word, 
And feel a sister's sweet embrace, — 
His inmost being stirred ; 
And eyes of love, and warm extended hand, 
To greet him in that land. 

One more home ! 
For him earth's sun is set ; 
Life's tasks are done ; the mystery 
Behind the veil, 
For which all seek, is won, 
And night will come no more ; 
Tears ne'er again will fall, 
And joys beyond the mortal ken, 
Our brother has found them all. 



160 Hon. John Deere. 



HON. JOHN DEERE. 

Work while the day lasts, for the night cometh when no man 
can work. 

The day was past, and it was night. All through the golden 
hours one gleaner had toiled in the harvest field from early dawn 
until the stars appeared. On all sides were workers, each intent 
upon their own affairs; but this one as he gleaned had heavy 
sheaves to bear, and the grain was firm and full. So the day 
wore on, and he tarried not from his labors. Many who passed by 
told him he looked weary and should rest ; that he had done far 
more than was needed ; but he answered with a smile, and still 
toiled on until the last sheaf with its golden richness was in the 
garner, when he said to those around him, "lam weary now ;" 
and he closed his eyes and slept. 

AND lo ! the night had come ; and tip the heights 
l From angel lips had rung the glad ' ' come 
home;" 
And down the golden milestones he had passed 
From childhood years, till childhood seemed again 
near by, 
He gazed, and knew whose voice had bid him 
come. 

The morn was far away; she whom he first had 
kissed, 
And who'd watched his footsteps, oh, so long 
ago! 



Hon. John Deere. 161 

Had dwelt beyond the stars for years, where tears 
Were no more shed, and sin and sorrow's pall 
Could stain no beauty with its blighting woe. 

The noon seemed but just gone, and yet the years, 
Full of stern duties, swept by on time's swift 
rushing stream ; 
And manhood's bright ambitions and rich hopes, 
And grand desires and love and friends, 

Were blended in his life as one bright dream. 

And now at last he sleeps, man, brother, friend ; 

He fills all hearts with fragrance of good deeds 
As sweet as flowers, and down the tide of years 
Shall his strong presence go, and lend its aid 

Where worth and honor e'er shall press their 
needs. 

Beyond the tide, in that harvest home, 

We may not know the royal name he wears, 
Nor see the welcomes sweet of friends so dear, 
For time and work with us shall still go on 

While we drift onward down life's varied years. 



1 62 Little Herbert. 



LITTLE HERBERT. 

A LITTLE child of winning grace, 
With a lovely, winsome, baby face, 
Caught the glance of an angel's eye, 
And she sped to the courts of heaven above, 
And told of the hearts it had won with love 
As its little days passed by. 

* Are there those of earth who dwell with me," 
Asked the Saviour's voice of melody, 
" Who loved this precious boy?" 
And many answered with sweet accord, 
But one fair face turned toward her Lord 
And spake with tears of joy: 

' I am one who came through waters deep ; 
The waves ran high and tried to sweep 

My feet from off the shore ; 
I left them all behind with tears, 
And blighted hopes ; for many years 

They hear my voice no more. 

' Give me this little child to keep 
Till my sister comes, though now deep 

The sorrow her heart must bear ; 
I'll keep his baby feet from sin 
Through love-crowned paths where I have been, 

He all my joys shall share. " 



Little Herbert. 163 

The Master smiled, to the angel said, 
Go on this mission both sore and glad ; 

Call the little spirit home." 
And the dark eyes ope'd to close no more ; 
The crape swings slowly from the door, 

And friends are left to mourn. 

But could they look beyond the skies 
Their sighs would change to glad surprise 

At the sight of their heaven-born boy ; 
Oh, earth ! thy lot is sad and drear ; 
They mark each day the sigh and tear 

Far more than scenes of joy. 

Beyond the gates, oh, welcome day ! 
There ne'er will come one saddening ray, 

No night or tears e'er more ; 
But joys that words can never tell, 
And music sweet as chime of bell 

Rings earthward from that shore. 



164 To Ida. 



TO IDA. 

THERE came to our home in the springtime, 
A dark-eyed, rosy-cheeked boy, 
Who filled up the quick passing hours 
With many a feeling of joy. 

Years lied ; the boy grew in beauty, 
And clung more close to our heart ; 

Each day seemed to bring some new duty 
To him we loved to impart. 

We thought of his hopes in the future ; 

We pictured so many fond hours 
When we, as the days passing onward, 

Might fill his young life-path with flowers. 

We knew not the death angel watched him, 
That they wanted our blossom on high ; 

That the bud which was given in earth -life 
Must grow and expand in the sky. 

But the angel just breathed on his forehead, 
When those dark eyes were closed to life's 
sleep, 

And Georgie, our only, our loved one, 
Had left us to mourn and to weep. 



To Ida. 165 

Now he watches the portal of heaven 
'Till the warden shall tell him we come 

To dwell where partings are over, 
Where loved ones are ever at home. 

The flowers will wave o'er his tombstone ; 

The wild-birds will chant their sweet lays, 
While we drop sad tears on the green sward 

And remember the past happy days. 

We never could bid him return 

Where the flowers and fruits sure must die, 
But patiently wait till our signal shall come 

To meet little Georgie on high. 



1 66 To Louie. 



TO LOUIE. 

GONE to meet his absent brother, 
Another darling, bright-eyed boy ; 
Gone where dwells your loving mother, 
Leaving sin for peace and joy. 

Gone where streams of purling sweetness 
Trickle from God's crystal throne ; 

Where all beauty is completeness 
We of earth have never known. 

Fanned his brow with breath of heaven, 
Where the fever wanton played ; 

Worldly ties have all been riven, 
Death's cold hand forever stayed. 

Has he met his loving playmates 
Who the river crossed before ? 

Were they watching at the gates, 
Beckoning him to yon bright shore ? 

Oh ! how idly do we query 

Who are left in grief and tears ! 

And the days are long and drea^, 
Months creep by in the time of years. 



To Louie. 167 

But the leaves that die with summer 
Come again at breath of spring, 

And the insects' restless murmur 
Mingle with the birds who sing. 

Henry's eyes have caught the vision, 
Heard the rush of silver wings ; 

Life so free from sin's derision 
Untold joy most surely brings. 

Patient wait, dear, loving mother, 
Soon your feet will press the shore ; 

Through that portal, and no other, 
Will you meet your boy once more. 

Life at best is but a journey, 

Marked with milestones worn and old ; 
Death's the hand that to the many 

Changes dross to purest gold. 



1 68 Assurance. 



ASSURANCE. 



"/""""* OME home !" came the Master's voice, 
V_/ And the golden gates swung wide, 
As a father laid life's burdens down 

And crossed to the other side. 
The mother was left to mourn, 

The children were left to weep, 
As o'er the grave 'neath the daisies, 

Would the woodland grasses sweep. 

Again the summons came, 

And he, her eldest born, 
Without one last good-bye, 

In the rushing tide was borne. 
Once more death's angel called, 

And she with the silver hair, 
Bearing many ripened sheaves 

She had garnered with patient care, 

Gave her hand to the boatman pale, 

And passed o'er the silver tide, 
Where above the echoes of " welcome home ! " 

Resounded on every side : 
' 4 Oh ! grief too great for tears, 

Is it not enough ? Oh, go 
And leave me to my fears, 

And this weary weight of woe!" 



Assurance. 169 

But grandly the angel smiled ; 
' ' I claim of the sister band, 
And choose the pearl among you 

To grace the summer land ! " 
She had heard the Master's call, 

But she clung to those she loved ; 
'Twas hard to leave them thus 

Who a mother's heart had proved. 

But sweetly she fell asleep ; 

At rest were the busy hands ; 
Life's work is done for her ; 

She has passed to the golden sands. 
Oh, Clara ! brave, sweet young life, 

You have gained what we cannot see, 
And with those gone before 

Have solved death's mystery. 

The years will come and go, 

The flowers will bloom and die, 
While we wait here below 

To meet with you on high. 
Free from the touch of pain, 

Free from sin and woe, 
At home with the blessed ones, 

Where tears can never flow. 



170 To Arthtir. 



TO ARTHUR. 

SHE has only passed through the golden gate 
That an angel left ajar, — 
Just left the earth for a higher state, 

And a truer life by far. 
But ye who are left must feel her loss, 

For 'tis hard to say good-bye ; 
But remember, the Savior, by way of the cross, 
Found her home in God's own sky. 

She has left two buds that may spring to bloom 

And gladden full many an hour 
Of your saddened life. O, blessed boon 

Of childhood's angel power! 
You will see the mother in their eyes, 

Will hear in them her voice ; 
Then point to her home in the starry skies 

And bid their hearts rejoice. 

Only the casket that held your gem 

You will tenderly lay away 
That the dust may turn to dust again, 

For 'tis only common clay; 
But Mary will linger around your home, 

Not one golden link is broke 
That bound your hearts, or will e'er become 

Rusted by death's cold stroke. 



Edith Ennis. 171 

Weep while you may, but not too close 

Do you bind her spirit down ; 
Her's is the gain, yours only the loss, 

She's changed earth's cross for a crown; 
And the years will pass; you, too, will go 

Across the silent river, 
Then your heart's sweet song, now sad with woe, 

Will sing with joy forever. 



EDITH ENNIS. 

THERE came a rift in the gates of gold, 
And angel wings sped through ; 
The Shepherd sent for a lamb of the fold 

That long he had kept in view ; 
And swift to earth the angel came, 

Though they heard not his feet at the door, 
And when life's torch had lost its flame 
He bore her away from the shore. 

Oh, Edith ! sweet child with the speaking eyes, 

Thy form is not lost to me ; 
Thou hast joined the band in the starry skies, 

From sin and sorrows free. 
Thou hast felt the touch of a mother's hand, 

Thou hast met her welcome kiss, 
And in that mystic spirit land, 

Have solved the angel's bliss. 



172 Edith Ennis. 

They mourn below ; their eyes are held 

From the glories where you dwell, 
And so yon must often come to earth 

To cast off their gloomy spell ; 
To auntie Mae, who loved you so 

That you took her heart to heaven, 
Oh, ask the Savior that the sight 

Of angels to her be given ! 

Watch over Harry's earnest ways, 

Guide winsome Lee's swift feet, 
And bring into dear papa's life 

That which will make complete. 
Sweet Edith, well I know you will; 

And though you have gone home, 
Fond memories cluster round you still 

In all the years to come. 



To Emma. 173 



TO EMMA. 



ONE year in heaven ! Who doth know 
What radiance o'er his path doth glow? 
What heights of joy his heart has known, 
What restful hours near God's white throne ; 
What clasping close of loved one's hands, 
What lessons learned from angel bands, 
What love and bliss on him doth beam 
Since he passed over Jordan's stream. 

One year in heaven! Oh, how sweet 

The sitting at the Master's feet ! 

To hear the rush of angel wings, 

As earthward they God's message bring ; 

To wear the robes washed snowy white, 

To see palms waving in God's light, 

To hear the angel chorus ring, 

To touch the harp and with them sing. 

One year in heaven ! Our's soon to know 
If we God's service do below; 
If we the seed do sow with care, 
If we God's glory shall declare, 
Then we shall rest our weary feet 
With theirs, by crystal waters sweet ; 
Then shall we dwell in God's bright sky 
Where sin and sorrow come not nigh. 



i74 Stricken Plymouth. 



STRICKEN PLYMOUTH. 

OVER the spires of the city, 
Relentless, unmoved, without pity, 
Stalketh the demon of death, 
Caring not whom he may touch, 
Holding their lives in his clutch 
Until the last gasp of their breath. 

Mothers' hearts, anguished and bleeding; 
Fathers, their moans all unheeding ; 

Homes left so drear and forlorn ; 
Sweet baby lips pale and cold, 
Tresses of hair brown and gold, 

These only of spirits now gone. 

Silent death glides on before ; 
The crape swings slow on the door, 

And the tale of sadness is told. 
No hope, no money, no friend, 
In God's name how will it end, 

And what shall the future unfold? 

Oh ! ye with your loved ones so dear, 
With dreamings of hope and good cheer, 

Pray, pray to the father above 
That this cup, so brimful of woe, 
From this people most swiftly may go, 

And give place to a mission of love ; 



Fulfillment. 175 

That friends with their wealth come to aid, 
That effort to check be not stayed, 

Till death shall remove his cold hand, 
And again those who tremble with fears, 
Can dry the swift falling tears 

And meet in the sweet household band. 



FULFILLMENT. 

NOT dead, but crossed over the border 
To the land of love and of light; 
Not dead, but stepped out of earth's shadow 

To the realm where cometh no night ; 
Not dead, but arisen in glory 

From out of its prison of clay ; 
Not dead, but telling the story 

Of the life she lived here each day. 

Oh, ye who see with eyes blinded ! 

Why do ye discern not the truth, 
That 'tis only through portals of silence 

You will find the fountain of youth? 
There, amid fragrance of roses, 

Amid joys earth never can see, 
In sweetness her spirit reposes, 

And basks in the bliss of the free. 



176 Fulfillment. 

You look at the casket that held her, 

And yoiir hot tears fall on her face, 
Could you see, you would catch Mary's vision , 

For she standeth near by with shy grace. 
No pain in the body celestial, 

No thought of the needs of to-day, 
But away from the shadows terrestrial 

In freedom she liveth alway. 

So be calm ; trust the truth of the message 

Which the easter dawn bringeth to all; 
She has gone to the Savior who loved her, 

Gone home from life's school, that is all. 
Her voice is as ringing and loving, 

Her smile is the same as before, 
For Edna's not dead, but arisen, 

Just passed on ahead through the door. 



Harry Guy. 177 



HARRY GUY. 

OUR boy ! our only boy ! 
From the midst of the sister band 
Called hence, to open first 
The gates of summer land. 

We cannot see the light, 
So dim with tears our eyes, 

Though bright its radiance shines 
Upon us from the skies. 

Lent to us! Oh, how sweet 
Have passed the baby years ! 

And we had thought his feet 
Be free from sin and tears. 

But swift the summons came, 
" Come home! " and he fell asleep, — 
The angels call his name, 
While we are left to weep. 

Not lost, but gone before ; 

We, too, shall cross the stream 
And meet our darling boy 

Whose life was like a dream. 



178 George D. Gould. 



GEORGE D. GOULD. 

SOMETIMES the call "Come home!" comes 
with the morning time, 

Sometimes at dewy eve, 
But whensoe'er the summons dread doth come 
We can but grieve. 

We watch the tiny blade, the bud, the bursting 
flower 

With joyous heart; 
And yet we know that in one brief, sad hour 

Each may depart. 

We come alone into God's rushing tide of life; 

We work and wait ; 
When all is o'er on earth of sin and strife 

Each finds the gate. 

With silence only as their benediction 

God's angels come; 
Within the shadow of a great affliction 

The soul sits dumb, 

And reaching blindly out, that God may clasp 

Our weary hands 
And lead us up the heights that ever touch 

The golden sands, 



Our Fred. 179 

We bide our time, we cannot know the hour ; 

But nobly live, 
That memory sweet o'er us shall cast her power, 

And comfort give. 



OUR FRED. 

CALLED back in the early morning, 
Ere the frost of the years had come ; 
Called back in the youth-tide gloaming, 

With life's brief work well done. 
Gone where the sun e'er shineth; 
Gone where no health declineth ; 
Gone to the joy's eternal ; 
Gone to the bliss supernal ; 
Up to God through the gate of flowers 
Fred has passed from this world of ours. 

Called back to the land of the starlight, 
To the home of his higher birth, 

Where never the mildew and blight 
Can chill the sweet blossoms of earth ; 

Oh, Fred, you have solved life's dreaming ! 

You bask in the golden gleaming 

Of all that is pure and bright. 

And now 'neath the grass and flowers 

That will come with the sweet spring hours 

You are tenderly laid from our sight. 



180 Baby Harry Dunn. 



BABY HARRY DUNN. 

ONLY a blossom to bloom for a day, 
With petals of beauty close folded away, 
To sweeten the lives close linked to his own, 
To gladden each heart with loves tender tone, 
And to cheer up each one by the way. 

Only a child with a bright winsome face, 
A boy who turned to each one with shy grace, 
Who came to our hearts when the fullness of years 
Had spent, with its dreams, its joys and its fears, 
And brightened with love the home place. 

Only a call that seems as a dream, 
That came to our idol to cross the dark stream, 
To close the bright eyes in the long silent sleep, 
And leave us behind to mourn and to weep, 
No hope on our pathway to beam. 

Only a grave where the flowers have died, 
Near those who will sleep by his side, 
Where winds will moan low and snows cover deep, 
Where pale stars at eve their vigil will keep, 
Where never more ill can betide. 

Only, we say, yet look to the skies, 
There shall our boy in loveliness rise, 
There shall we welcome his sweet loving tone, 
There shall we clasp him again, all our own 
At last, in that home, Paradise. 



Gertrude Horrell. 



GERTRUDE HORRELL. 

THE morn has come; athwart the eastern sky 
Breaks clear and strong a shaft of light, 
Upward from earth the mystic curtains roll 
And open to the wondrous eyes of soul 
Visions and dreams of days gone by. 

Voices long silent let their music fall 

On the listening ears ; eyes beam with love ; 

Hands meet again in loving clasp 

From which no terror e'er can grasp, 

Or sorrow e'er again recall. 

The flesh, which like a vapor wrought 

Its folds about the spirit, is no more ; 

Its weakness now is strength; its sorrow, joy. 

No taint of earth can e'er alloy 

One scene with wondrous beauty fraught. 

Darling, farewell ! we stand without the gate, 
And hold life's thread still on to weave; 
Thy pattern all is done and angels hold ; 
Thou'lt gaze upon each woven fold, 
And learn from them what men call fate. 

Beneath the grass, where tender flowers bloom, 
We lay thy body down to rest 
With others who have gone away ; 
The night has passed, 'tis living day, 
You dwell with Christ beyond the tomb. 



1 82 Arthur Wheelock. 



ARTHUR WHEELOCK. 

Silently open swung the door of the lodge. An invisible 
guide passed through with noiseless footsteps, and going near the 
sleeper, so wan and pale, bent low o'er his couch and whispered a 
password in his listening ear. He looked up and smiled. What 
could it mean ? could it be the toil and worry were over ? Were 
the heights attained at last that so long he had striven to climb 
with pain and weariness? and, within the portal, were there wait- 
ing those to signal him to the higher courts, where dreams of true 
ambition, power and greatness, could be permanently achieved ? 
He had fought single-handed with the powers that meet men in 
the highway of life. No stain could be found on his shield of 
honor. Friends had met him all along the way, and in the pleas- 
ant courtesies of life he was ever thoughtful of those gathered 
around him. And now the end had come ; the sleepless nights 
with long hours of pain had ended. The farewells were to be 
spoken to those so dearly loved ; the earthly eyes were to close 
forever on all things he had known from boyhood days, and 
scenes and places he had known would know him no more. The 
moments one by one passed on, and the silent watchers knew the 
invisible guide stood by, motionless and still, waiting to lead the 
brother through the portal that led to the great beyond. A flut- 
tering breath, a movement of unrest, and the silent clay alone 
was left with the weeping ones. He had answered to the call of 
" come up higher ! " and the door of life was shut. 

NOW our brother from this earth-life 
Hedged around with many a thorn, 
From the scenes of strife and care, 
From earth's sorrows everywhere, 
Angel hands have borne you on. 



Hester A. Huey. 183 

We shall miss your kindly greeting-, 
Miss your words of hope and cheer ; 

But the record of past days, 

Met so true amid life's ways, 

E'er shall bring your presence near. 

Sleep beneath the grass and daisies 
Where we gently lay you down ; 

We are left to bear life's cross, 

Watch its tides of gain and loss, 
You have changed all for a crown. 



HESTER A. HUEY. 

REST, mother, rest; 
For many years thy feet have pressed 
Hard and sore on life's long road; 
Thou hast borne each weary load ; 
Patient, knowing God knew best ; 
All is o'er; rest, mother, rest. 

Rest, mother, rest; 
Fold thy worn hands on thy breast ; 

How they toiled through busy days ! 

Smoothed so clear the tangled ways 
In pain's hour ; so soft caressed 
Each loved child ; rest, mother, rest. 




184 Hester A. Huey. 

Rest, mother, rest; 
Thou hast done all for the best ; 
Saw the lining's silver light 
Of clouds that hurry as dark as night ; 
Smiled when sore thy heart was pressed 
And gave no sign ; rest, mother, rest. 



Rest, mother, rest, 
Calm and sweet on Jesus' breast. 
Harp of light and crown of gold, 
Days of youth that grow not old, 
Peace for those whom God loves best, 
Come at last ; rest, mother, rest. 

Rest, mother, rest, 
Evermore among the blest. 
We lay the body sad away, — 
Its work is done, 'tis silent clay, — 
Where grasses wave, birds build their nest, 
And flowers bloom ; rest, mother, rest. 



Dr. Samuel Swan. 185 



DR. SAMUEL SWAN. 

FLASHED as a star from the earthly skies 
With its light down the fading west, 
With its glory gone, its mission done, 

Fulfilled its spirit's bequest; 
Flashed out, yet left the rays of light 

To fall down the passing years, 
To brighten the paths where sorrows blight 
Have made their furrow of tears. 

Oh ! spirit great, has the busy brain 

That wrought for the sons of men, 
Found where you dwell? some sweet refrain 

Caught the chords of life again? 
Do you watch the eyes? do you touch the hand? 

Do you speak some words of cheer? 
Are there restless hearts in the shadow-land 

You may comfort as you did here? 

The pendulum swung in the clock of time 

Over many a golden day; 
The ladder rounds, with upward climb, 

You steadily pressed your way. 
Oh, soul arisen! may the victor's crown 

Rest in glory upon your brow ; 
You have lived your life, the cross laid down, 

And our hearts to your genius bow. 



1 86 George Thompson, 



GEORGE THOMPSON. 

CALLED out without notice or warning, 
From his desk and editor's chair, 
With the " locals" he'd gathered at morning 

To the office above to appear; 
Called from the street and hearthstone ; 

Called from the struggle for bread ; 
Called from the grasp of the tempter, 
To rest at the gates of the dead. 

Called to the life that's unending, 

Where the "type," firmly set, tell the truth; 
Where the "form" and the "proof sheet" de- 
fending, 

He renews the vigor of youth. 
Called beyond power of judging 

By critics who differ in thought; 
Called where deeds, not opinions, 

By money or fame are not bought. 

God rest thee, our friend and our brother ; 

Thy heart was noble and true ; 
And many a one, when in trouble, 

A companion of truth found in you. 
Thy life " press " has " run its last issue," 

And messenger boys silent stand 
To hand out the " cop}' " that's waiting 

Your glance in the bright morning-land. 



Captain Hawley. * 8 7 



CAPTAIN HAWLEY. 

NOT dead ; passed on, off duty, 
This friend so dear to each heart ; 
Gone, like a shadow at morning, 
Gone, without thought, without warning ; 
Gone, with earth's duties well done, 
With record as bright as the sun ; 
Called forth from the mystery of life, 
Freed from its sin and its strife 
While we, brothers, still bear here our part. 

By touch of his hand, and glance of his eye, 

He has given to each, in days now gone by, 

Lessons so grand his life did instill, 

He has bidden us each to nobly fulfill 

Each duty that's given in public trust ; 

To trample dishonor and crime in the dust, 

To stand man to man, to join heart to heart, 

To fear no foe, to suffer no smart, 

To balance the scales of justice and right 

And swerve not for numbers nor death in the fight. 

Not dead, but just crossed the portal ; 
Reached that bright spirit-world that's mortal ; 
Received the reward of well doing. 
Though his joy we welcome with gladness, 
We drop tears of grief and of sadness, 
Sweet love blossoms o'er his grave strewing. 



1 88 Aunt Lydia W he e lock. 



AUNT LYDIA WHEELOCK. 

SOFTLY the twilight shadows fall, 
The work of the day is done ; 
The lips are still, the eyelids closed ; 

The race of life is won. 
No more shall messengers of pain 

Come back at morn or eve ; 

No more within the web of life 

One thread is left to weave. 

Softly the twilight shadows fall ; 

But on that waxen face 
They bring not back the welcome smile 

That one was wont to trace. 
He sees her chair, but that still form 

No more will rest within ; 
No hand will rest within his own, 

To soothe his care and pain. 

Softly the twilight shadows fall ; 

But in that summer-land 
The " Welcome home, oh wandering one!' 

Is sung by angel band ; 
And hands of love have pressed her own, 

And gladness met her feet, 
And sometime we who mourn to-day, 

Her angel form shall greet. 



Josiah Healy. 189 



JOSIAH HEALY. 

AT rest. Throughout the weary years 
. His feet have walked the way 
With faith as sweet as little child, 
With manhood pure and undefiled : 
We view him thus to-day. 

At rest. No questions now to solve, 

No tangled threads to hold and weave. 
Earth's mission closed, the care and pain 
Have vanished, peace and quiet reign, — 
Why, therefore, should we grieve? 

At rest. From out the gates of gold 

Shines pure and strong a shaft of light. 
His fleshly drapes have passed away, 
He's broke the prison bars of clay, 

He's waked to morn from out earth's night. 



190 Gone Home. 



GONE HOME. 

GONE through the open door 
Into a higher room ; 
Gone from the frosts of earth 
Where flowers ever bloom ; 
Gone from the toil and strife 

Where sweetest peace doth reign ; 
Gone from the scars of life 
To robes without a stain. 

At rest are the busy hands, 

Stilled are the weary feet; 
They fashioned love's sweetest bands, 

They came our coming to greet; 
Hushed is the pleasant voice, 

Closed are the speaking eyes ; 
She who was wont to rejoice 

Silent and motionless lies. 

How we shall miss that sweet face, 

She to our house was so dear ! 
Who with such loving grace 

Presided for many a year ! 
Emma, the dearest and best, 

Everyone's sorrows to know ; 
Emma, though seeking thy rest, 

How can we thus let you go? 



Memories. 1 9 \ 

Oh, the sadness of heart 

If this of life was the last ! 
If met not again those who part, 

When struggles of life are all past ! 
But, thanks to the Son of our God 

Who has said we truly shall live, 
We bow to the chastening rod, 

The saddest our Father could give. 



MEMORIES. 

I SIT all alone by the fireside, 
The lamp burns dim and low, 
And I watch on the wall before me 

The shadows come and go; 
And my thoughts turn fondly backward 

And bridge time's surging tide, 
And again I see here before me, 
The dear little boy who died. 

I hear the soft, rippling laughter, 

I watch the beaming eyes 
As they send the light back to my own 

At some question's swift surprise ; 
I feel the clasp of the fingers 

As he presses close to my side, 
And the soft kiss on my forehead 

Of the dear little boy who died. 



192 Memories. 

Then again the vision changes, 

And within a darkened room, 
So cold and still and silent 

If fills my heart with gloom, 
The bright eyes closed forever, 

The hands still at his side, 
I see the clay-cold casket 

Of the dear little boy who died. 

And I wonder as I sit here, 

What those angel eyes have seen 
While nearly a year in heaven, 

Where my darling's feet have been ; 
And I check the swift tears falling, 

As I gaze o'er the golden tide, 
For I know it is joy forever 

With the dear little boy who died. 



